


The Serpent's Vow

by Rahar_Moonfire



Series: The Pharaoh's Serpant [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1, Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e02 Seth, Eventual Kaiba and Jounouchi friendship, Gen, Goa'uld (Stargate), High Priest Seto is Seto Kaiba, Jounouchi is a great friend, Jounouchi is a lucky bastard, Jounouchi isn't stupid, Jounouchi whoops butt, Kaiba is a Goa'uld, Mentions of minor gore and potentially disturbing imagery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post Duelist Kingdom, Seto Kaiba takes no shit., Yugi isn't useless or oblivious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-07-06 18:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 118,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15891477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahar_Moonfire/pseuds/Rahar_Moonfire
Summary: He helped lead the rebellion that ultimately drove the false gods from the Earth and bury the Stargate, but he was too late to save the Nameless Pharaoh, his cousin and best friend. Death would have been a relief, a reward. So he lived on, alone.5000 years later, SG-1, with the help of Jacob Carter and the Tok'ra Selmak, raid the cult compound run by the Goa'uld Seth. They didn't count on finding another Goa'uld with no love for the System Lords, particularly those who steal identities.Chapter 33 summary:In which a normal, happy day goes to hell in a handbasket. Or, in this case, a backpack.





	1. Game Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pegasus knows, Seto stresses, and Yugi asks for help.

Pegasus knew. There wasn't much Seto could do about that. On the bright side, as rich and influential as Pegasus was, no one would ever believe something so obviously outlandish. Literally. At least the megalomaniac knew when to keep his mouth shut. For now anyway. It had taken years for Seto to manufacture his current identity and, despite how hard it was for him to admit it, even to himself, he'd grown rather fond of it.

Kaiba Seto. Adopted son of Kaiba Gozaburo, former CEO of Kaiba Corporations, formerly one of the world leaders in weapons manufacturing. It had taken a long time for Seto to wrest full control of KaibaCorp from the money and warmongering idiots of the Board and focus his energies on something less bloodthirsty and more beneficial. Games.

Perhaps it was his sentimentality. Perhaps it was just logical. Maybe it was a combination of both to varying degrees depending on the time of day or night. After all, war was just as much a game as chess. The game pieces just bled and died instead of topple over onto the board in defeat.

But this was no defeat. Finally, Seto had succeeded. The child he'd come to adore as the brother he never had but always wanted would have a secure future. Seto knew from experience that eventually people would start to get suspicious of his continued youthful appearance. Especially when compared to young Mokuba's relatively rapid growth. Hopefully, it would be a dozen or so years before that happened and he was forced the vanish yet again.

He had to stop typing and press his mouth against his folded hands, glaring at the glowing computer screen in an attempt to will away the pain that threatened to drown him in despair. Mokuba. Never in all his many long years did Seto ever think he would latch onto someone so _thoroughly_ again. Blue eyes the shade of glacial ice slipped to the small form slumbering away on the bed next him, curled up in his white trench coat and a pile of pillows.

If Seto had a weakness, it was his vulnerable heart. He felt everything so intensely it often left him raw and exposed. Damn it to Osiris, Seto loved Mokuba like he'd once loved his pharaoh. Love, loyalty, absolute trust. All things he never thought he would ever have or be worthy of ever again.

Long ago, he betrayed his Pharaoh. Whether he did so willingly or not didn't matter. The betrayal still resulted in harm and opened the door to his beloved cousin suffering a fate worse than death. Alone. Seto could never forgive himself for that. Death would have been a mercy.

So he lived.

It had been a long time. Almost too long.

He couldn't bring himself to leave this host. It was his in every single way that mattered. He'd been implanted when both he and his host were too young to remember or have a solid sense of self. The only consciousness to ever fully exist in this body was his own. He _was_ Seto. He couldn't handle the idea of abandoning what he saw as _himself_ and possessing some other innocent person and wearing them like a new costume. The very thought sickened him.

Unfortunately, over time, his many years of lonely existence and exposure to the sarcophagus, even with the numerous alterations he's made to the device, had begun to degrade his mind and personality. When he finally realized what was happening to him, it was almost too late. He destroyed the sarcophagus as completely as possible and swore he would _never_ risk using any Goa'uld device like it again. Not unless he had no other choice.

The resulting withdrawal symptoms that plagued his body also wreaked havoc on his psyche. When Mokuba found him crumbled on the ground that fateful day, Seto had been conscious but barely sane. He latched onto the boy with the possessive single-mindedness of a hostless Goa'uld and, for once, he didn't feel ashamed. Mokuba was worth everything Seto could give. He would do anything to make sure his precious little brother would be protected.

No matter what the cost.

Which led him back to the problem of Pegasus. Pegasus J. Crawford was certifiably insane and a megalomaniac the likes of which any Goa'uld Seto knew of would be proud to call enemy. The fact the American businessman had the Millennium Eye just made matters worse. Pegasus didn't just suspect, Pegasus _knew_ what Seto was. He'd _seen_ Seto's true self buried beneath layers of skin, muscle, mind, and soul. Pegasus knew and he was demanding answers.

For a man still recovering in the hospital and reeling from a devastating loss at the hands of a boy, Pharaoh reborn though he may be, Pegasus was certainly pushy. The damning email Seto was trying hard to formulate a decent reply to spelled out everything. How was Seto supposed to explain this in a way that _didn't_ make him seem equally insane? By all rights, he shouldn't _have_ to. Pegasus had been the one to invade _his_ mind in the first place. None of this would have happened if he hadn't panicked when Pegasus' goons broke into his home and threatened him. He'd still been fresh from a Penalty Game induced coma. He was hardly in a position to defend himself let alone think straight. All he could think about clearly was surviving long enough to get Mokuba back.

But Pegasus was smart. He knew when and where to pry to get what he wanted. Had this been a business venture, Seto would have met it head-on. But this was personal. The Pharaoh he once served knew Seto's true nature. Mokuba however... Seto adored his little brother. But if Mokuba was faced with indisputable facts proving his big brother was 'being controlled' by a snake in his head, Seto would lose him. He couldn't bear that. He was always losing what mattered most. Not now. Not anymore. Not if there was _anything_ he could do to stop it.

The only question now was _how?_ He ran his fingers through his brown hair as he silently stressed. Damn that man to Ammit's gullet.

Seto could tolerate his loss to Pegasus _only_ because the ditsy necrophiliac had the Millennium Eye. Now, whether the man still had it or not after the Duelist Kingdom fiasco was another question entirely. Although Seto was beginning to doubt it if the rumors of Pegasus spending time in the hospital for a facial injury were true.

Yugi knew, but he hadn't told Seto outright and Seto wasn't going to ask. As difficult as it was to admit, Seto wasn't a part of his Pharaoh's closest circle this time around. Granted, they hadn't met under the best circumstances so while it gnawed at him, it made sense.

Seto had barely been sane when he faced off with Yugi the first time. His Shadows, reacting to his lack of self-control and damaged psyche, lashed out at Yugi's Grandpa. It had been so easy he'd barely realized he'd done it. The fragile shell of sanity he clung to had been degraded by the sarcophagus withdrawal and Gozaburo's constant abuse until Seto hardly recognized himself. He'd been... He had almost become...

The Shadow Game Yugi had subjected him to at the end of their Shadow Duel managed to thoroughly remove any lingering hold the sarcophagus had on his mind. It also shattered everything Gozaburo had hammered into his head while he'd been… compromised. Forced to rebuild his sense of self from scratch, Seto chose to focus his everything on Mokuba, his beloved dragons, and Yugi.

Pharaoh. Yugi was the Pharaoh reborn. _His_ Pharaoh. Seto knew it. He could feel the oaths he'd sworn so long ago, witnessed and bound by the Shadows, throb with the knowledge. Yugi was alive and he'd solved the Millennium Puzzle. Finally. After so many years.

 _Why_ had it taken _so Ra-begotten long_ for him to return?!

During that time, Seto had been alone. He'd entrusted the Millennium Items to High Priestess Isis and her descendants to protect, keeping the Rod for himself. Unless Pegasus was one of Isis' descendants, which was ludicrous, then the Tomb Keepers apparently failed in their duties somewhere along the line. The Pharaoh had his Puzzle, Seto had his Rod, Pegasus may or may not still have the Eye, and someone else in Duelist Kingdom had another Item. Seto remembered sensing the Item, but not clearly enough to identify which one it was or who wielded it. That left three Items unaccounted for. Not good news.

He bit back a grimace as he dropped his gaze to his Deck sitting still and innocuous on his desk by his mouse. He could feel the Shadows pulsing within them like a beating heart. He could feel _her_ within them. She didn't judge him or lecture him or fear him. She just loved him. Finding Mokuba had been the start of his mental and emotional healing. Finding Kisara again -in a card game of all things- should have been his first clue that his long wait was finally - _finally!_ \- over. Finding Yugi...

He should have recognized him by sight if nothing else. The Millennium Puzzle was a raging sun in the darkness of the Shadow Realm. He'd just been too blinded by his own despair to see it. Too lost in his muddled mind to believe that the person he'd sworn himself to mind, body, and soul... that the person he had loved and betrayed was alive again.

Now he was fully aware and utterly terrified. His Pharaoh knew what he was. It wasn't easy to keep something like that secret after his betrayal. But Yugi... Yugi was like Mokuba. He didn't know the truth. Yugi didn't know anything. In fact, Seto was willing to bet everything he had that Yugi hardly remembered anything from his past life.

Five thousand years was a long time, no matter how much of it Seto slept through. Seto could only wonder how the Millennium Puzzle found its way to and be solved by someone who looked _exactly_ like his beloved Pharaoh. He hoped... He prayed to the True Gods that Yugi would remember soon, and that he wouldn't despise Seto simply because he was something despicable.

For now, there was hope and that was enough. Each time Yugi extended a hand in friendship, Seto felt another sliver of ice melt away from his heart. One day he would take that hand like he had so many eons ago and learn to trust again. This time, hopefully, he wouldn't be too late.

A loud buzzing sound abruptly shocked him out of his thoughts. His computer had gone to sleep at some point, the screen with its incriminating email now black and lifeless. Thankfully, a password and facial recognition were required to open the device, but Seto wouldn't put it past Mokuba to figure out a work around. Still, Seto didn't realize how long he'd been oblivious. He was losing his edge.

Obelisk support him.

Rubbing his face in mounting aggravation, he glanced over to his right. The light from the full moon shining through his hotel room window was bright enough for him to see the device responsible for the offensive noise without the need for a lamp. Swiping the cell phone from the glass and steel surface, Seto answered it without bothering to check the caller ID.

"This had better be good," he growled, shutting his laptop quickly, "because if you woke Mokuba, I will kill you."

A snort. _"Ah, sorry."_

"Pha- Yugi!" Seto gasped. Biting his tongue, he took a deep breath to quell his edgy temper. "Hold on," he muttered.

Standing, he brushed Mokuba's hair tenderly and made his way to the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony. This high up, most of the city noise was muffled by the night air. He could smell the coming rain and feel the breeze on his face. Sliding the door shut quickly and quietly behind him, he tapped his hands-free earpiece.

"Can you hear me?" he asked.

_"Yes. Why?"_

"Nothing." He tucked his phone in his pocket and leaned over so his forearms rested on the cast iron railing overlooking the Puget Sound. "What is it, Yugi?"

_"I… How are you doing?"_

"Fine," he said, trying to keep his voice calm.

_"You sound tired."_

Damn. "Jet lag."

_"After a week?"_

He sighed in mounting annoyance. "Was there a point to this call?" he grumbled. "You never call this late unless it's something important. You never call _ever_ unless it's something important."

His Pharaoh's silence was telling. _"Kaiba, I need your help."_

Of course. A small part of his mind that desperately wanted his cousin back keened with glee and worry. Yugi, _his_ Pharaoh, was coming to him for help. Yugi came to _him_ , of his own free will. It was both thrilling and terrifying. Yugi's ability to attract trouble was, quite frankly, astonishing. Thank Ra Seto was good at cleaning up other people's messes.

"What are you caught up in this time?" Seto said, twining his fingers together thoughtfully as he watched the lights from a ship in the harbor move across the water. He swore, if someone else was trying to steal the Pharaoh's Puzzle, Seto would _personally_ rip them to shreds. Having his soul ripped out, again, tended to have that affect on him.

 _"It's not me,"_ Yugi said hesitantly.

Oh no. Please don't be the mutt.

_"It's Honda."_

…motorcycle boy?

"What about him?" Seto asked, confused but mildly interested. "The convention isn't supposed to end until Sunday. If you can't find him, then he's probably-"

 _"I know where he is, Kaiba,"_ Yugi said urgently, _"I just can't get to him."_

Deep breath. "What aren't you telling me?" Seto said.

 _"He's been taken,"_ Yugi said. _"I don't really know how to explain it. He was fine and then he just walked away and left with them and-"_

Kidnapped then. Great. How Yugi and his geek squad managed to constantly find themselves in ridiculous situations like this was beyond Seto's comprehension.

 _"-Jounouchi and I"_ -oh Ra, the mutt was involved too- _"found out where he was taken but we can't get in. Not without being shot."_

Seto stilled. Guns? "What do you mean 'shot'?" he said, keeping a strict hold on his temper when he felt his Shadows begin to curl around his wrists in response to his emotions.

 _"They have guns,"_ Yugi said. _"A lot of guns. Some of them are military grade."_

Which meant this was most likely an organized hit. Shit. Seto pinched the bridge of his nose as he processed this. "Where is-" He stopped. There that music in the background. It was faint but distinct. ...He recognized that music. "Yugi," he said slowly, "I'm going to ask you one simple question and I want you to answer me honestly. I will know if you lie. Where are you right now?"

Silence followed by a heavy sigh. _"At your hotel. In the lobby."_

Seto sighed.

 _"Please, Kaiba,"_ Yugi pleaded. _"I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't think you could help."_

That… strangely hurt, even though he probably deserved it.

"Fifteenth floor," Seto said into the wireless speaker. "Room 1513. Don't knock. You'll wake Mokuba. I'll know when you're here."

_"Thank you."_

Straightening, Seto tapped the railing. "Is there anything I should be looking into while you're on your way up?" he asked.

_"Have you heard of someone named Seth Fargough?"_

"No." His eyes flashed gold. "But I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Finally have some downtime after a crazy, hectic few weeks. I've had the idea of Kaiba being a Goa'uld for a while now but never got around to figuring out how that would work out. Then I watched the Stargate SG-1 episode "Seth" and the idea sucker punched me in the face. We'll see where this goes. 
> 
> This is not related to the _Shadow Justice_ series. I may write a SG-1 crossover for that one later one. But this fic is a standalone.


	2. Planning Stages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seto gets details and realizes an evil he thought long driven from the Earth has returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** If anyone has any questions about either fandom, (words like Jaffa or Millennium Puzzle, references like System Lords or Duelist Kingdom, etc) just ask. I'll answer any question as best I can without giving away details. I try to write crossovers in such a way that anyone familiar with at least one fandom can follow along with the other via explanations, etc.
> 
> Again, just to be clear, this story is not part of the _Shadow Justice_ series.
> 
>  **Pronunciations:**  
>  *Fargough \- FAR-go as in the place (and movie) "Fargo"  
> *Jaffa \- ja-FAH (like Jaffar from Disney's "Aladdin" but without the 'r')  
> *Heru'ur \- HAIR-oo-ur (another name for the Egyptian god Horus)  
> *Goa'uld \- GO-ah-OOLD (or GOOLD, both canonically work)
> 
> Let me know if you need me to add any pronunciations to this list.

When Yugi arrived, Seto had several browser windows open on his laptop and the incriminating email was closed. Getting to his feet, Seto made his way to his hotel room door and opened it. Yugi stood in the hallway, eyes wide in surprise and fist raised as if to knock on Seto’s door. 

“I thought I made it clear not to knock,” Seto said in a low tone. 

The young Pharaoh blushed and offered a sheepish smile in apology. Rolling his eyes, Seto stepped aside so Yugi could come in. However, before Yugi’s companion could enter, he planted his arm firmly at chest level, bracing his hand on the door jam opposite him, effectively blocking the door.

“Wha-?”

“This hotel has a strict No Pet policy, Yugi,” Seto said, refusing to visually acknowledge the blonde mutt’s presence. “Leave your dog outside.”

Jounouchi was practically vibrating with fury. The brat’s tongue must be bleeding from how hard he was biting it. The mutt always did have anger management issues. Seto would know.

“Kaiba, please,” Yugi said, sounding vaguely exasperated. “This is serious. Stop patronizing him.”

An order. Seto pressed his lips together, grimly resisting the desire to give in to his vow so quickly. He waited another few seconds to be sure the puppy didn’t bark before finally allowing Jounouchi entrance. Closing the door and locking both the deadbolt and the chain, Seto led his two less-than-welcome guests through his hotel room to the balcony. He slid the glass door open and waited for both Yugi and Jounouchi to step outside.

When he was alone inside, he tugged the blackout drapes over the glass and grabbed his laptop. A sleepy groan made his pause and turn to his little brother. Thankfully, Mokuba was still asleep and showed no signs of waking up. Seto tucked several strands of jet black hair away from Mokuba’s nose, brushing his thumb over the childish cheek as he did so. Then he stood and swept out the door onto the balcony, drawing the drapes the rest of the way and shutting the door behind him. 

“Now,” he said, taking a seat in one of the two patio chairs and placing his laptop on the glass top table. He opened the computer and continued his web search. “Seth Fargough. Context and spelling. Fargo as in the place or something else?”

“Fargough as in F-a-r-g-o-u-g-h. We don’t know much about him,” Yugi said, taking the seat opposite Seto. “Just that there were several people walking around the convention talking about him. I think he’s part of a religion of some sort.”

Seto frowned and paused in his typing. “A religion?” he muttered in disbelief.

He glanced at the young man in front of him. Short stature, Asian pale skin, gelled up hair with bleached bangs, and the violet eyes which hinted at the influence of Shadowmancy all conspired to give young Yugi an innocent aire. Seto knew better. The distinctive gleam of the golden Millennium Puzzle dangling from Yugi’s neck like a pendant was plenty proof of how dangerous Yugi could be. On anyone else, something as large and eye-catching as the reverse pyramid would seem gaudy. But not on Yugi. It was as much a part of the Pharaoh reborn as the Millennium Rod was a part of Seto.

The Eye of Ra, the one true Ra, flickered in the moonlight and Seto felt the hackles on the back of his neck stand on end. It was the strangest thing. Ever since he’d met Yugi, he felt like someone was watching him. Someone he couldn’t see. It made him paranoid; well, more paranoid than usual. It made his temper flair in discomfort and frustration. He _hated_ being spied on.

Yugi nodded wearily, seeming oblivious to Seto’s mounting uneasiness.  “Yeah. We were near the Dealer’s Room when some of them showed up.” He began absently fingering the Millennium Puzzle as he spoke. “We didn’t think much of it since, you know, they didn’t do much except talk about this Seth person. Honda went to look at something-”

“There was a motorcycle on display at the Red Bull table,” Jounouchi chimed in from his place leaning against the balcony railing. “He went to go check it out. We were going to pass that booth soon anyway so we said we’d catch up.” The scruffy blonde boy shifted, tucking his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I noticed some of those Seth cult people over there but,” he shrugged, “I didn’t think anything was wrong until we saw Honda leave with them.”

Seto narrowed his eyes considering the mutt’s words. “Did he go willingly or was he dragged?”

Jounouchi and Yugi shared a look that Seto did _not_ like.

“We’re not sure,” Yugi admitted reluctantly. “He didn’t _look_ like he was struggling.”

“But?” Seto encouraged.

“But nothing,” Jounouchi said, pushing off the railing and meeting Seto glare for glare. It was a rather pathetic attempt. “Honda wouldn’t just walk off with creeps like that. Besides they… They felt wrong.”

Seto rolled his eyes but silently mulled over Jounouchi’s words. He may not like the mutt -he could barely stand his presence- but Yugi’s friend had the kind of luck a professional gambler would be jealous of. His hunches, however ridiculous they sounded, tended to be on the right track. However, Seto would sooner make his own Jaffa than admit that aloud. For that reason, and that reason _only_ , he returned his attention to his computer and began narrowing his search down.

Seth Fargough. Cult. Washington State. International Convention of Technology and Gaming. Seattle.

Well, well. Apparently there was only one known cult in the area with a member, or in this case _leader,_ named Seth Fargough. The cult was relatively small but was creating a bit of a stir in certain circles because the cultists were arming themselves. Fabulous. Cults of that sort typically resulted in violet death for the members, often times other unconnected parties as well. At least there was no mention of stockpiled biological or chemical weapons that Seto could find. 

Not on official or readily available pages, anyway. He was wary of hacking into a secure server like the CIA’s from an open network like the hotel’s. He didn’t have the right equipment needed for that. Luckily, he didn’t need to hack this time. He knew from experience that just the mention of a heavily armed cult meant the CIA was at least keeping an eye on them.

There wasn’t much on the Seth cult itself except that this Seth Fargough styled himself as some sort of god or holy leader. His cult was small relatively speaking and holed up in what looked like a converted inn just outside the Seattle area.

“How close did you get to the main complex?” he asked, his eyes remaining on the screen as he skimmed the website’s section of the Seth cult.

“I climbed the fence but I wasn’t going to leave the tree cover,” Jounouchi said promptly. “There’s a clear area around the perimeter of the building and every guy I saw had at least one machine gun. They looked like AK-47s, but it was too far to tell for sure.”

“That was specific,” Seto muttered, arching an eyebrow. “I’m impressed. I had no idea you paid attention to details.”

“Dude, fuck you, I watch movies okay. Seriously, Honda’s in a building with guys with guns,” Jounouchi snapped angrily. “Does that not bother you? At all?”

A bit.

“Not particularly,” Seto said. “Pegasus’ men had guns and I got past all of them alone with nothing by my Deck and some now obsolete tech. I can do it again with ease.”

“Thank you.”

Startled, both Seto and Jounouchi turned to Yugi who had practically melted in his seat in relief.

“I was actually worried you’d kick us out,” Yugi said shyly. “I know we’re not your favorite people but I’m not…” He bit his lip. “English isn’t my first language and I’m not familiar enough with this area to just wander around and I didn’t think this was something the local police would handle well in case…”

In case this involved insane megalomaniacs with Items of power like Pegasus. Smart move.

“You made it to the complex on your own,” Seto said, dropping his gaze to the computer screen. “That’s good enough.”

Yugi pursed his lips. “Well, we could only do that because Honda left his motorcycle. Jounouchi tailed the cult people as far as he could.”

Seto shuddered. Just the idea of the mutt driving, even though Jounouchi was of legal age in this country, was terrifying. At least they had two reliable transport methods now including Seto’s own ride. He hummed and he scrolled down the web page.

He paused to study the photograph of this Seth Fargough person. The image wasn’t sharp and had obviously been taken from a distance with a less than professional camera, but it had all the important details. Seth was a middle-aged Caucasian man with brown hair he kept long enough to brush the back of his neck and a perfectly cut goatee. The man looked somewhat familiar even though Seto was certain he’d never seen the cult leader before. Honestly, Seto had seen enough people over the years that a passing resemblance wasn’t uncommon. It was somewhat annoying though because he had to consciously keep his mind from dwelling on it.

Bored, Seto began skimming the paragraphs on the page again. Then stopped. Reread that particular paragraph in disbelief.

_Seth... can make his eyes glow..._

Impossible. How…? It had to be a trick of some kind. A reflection of light off the eyes. Nothing else.

But on the off chance it was real…

Seto ran through a quick list of every Goa’uld he knew of. None of them could have returned to Earth in a stealthy manner. The Goa’uld were many things but stealthy was never one of them. They connived and betrayed and plotted and attacked. Spies were not something they often stooped to. Scouts yes, spies no.

Unless it wasn’t a spy. Seto himself was a Goa’uld hiding on Earth. Was this Goa’uld doing the same thing? If so, what was the snake hiding from or what was it waiting for? If Seto knew the Goa’uld’s identity, then the rest might be easier to figure out.

Sorting through the precious few facts Seto knew for certain, he began to narrow down the list of potential suspects. It couldn’t be Ra or Hathor. They were personalities that _demanded_ to be acknowledged and worshiped by all. Their return would be a spectacle.

It couldn’t be Apophis. He rarely showed any interest in Earth. Besides, he was more focused on building power to overthrow Ra. A feat Seto sincerely doubted was possible as long as the Supreme System Lord lived.

And it definitely wasn’t Heru’ur. Too old and ornate. The Heru’ur Seto remembered had a host closer to High Priest Mahad’s physical age with the muscle mass of a Jaffa. The false god was a true warrior who took to the practice courts as often as any of his Horus guards. That was something Seto had always respected, no matter his personal feelings for the false god himself. Absently, Seto wondered if Heru’ur’s hair had ever grown back after their last meeting.

Brushing that amusing thought aside, Seto settled on the next list of suspects. The minor underlords were many and Seto readily acknowledged he didn’t know hardly any of them. He supposed the cult leader could be Osiris. But that left the question of how the snake got free of Ra’s enforced imprisonment.

It was also unlikely to be Isis. The Goa’uld may be a genderless race, but they did sometimes have preferred sexes when it came to their chosen hosts. Osiris’ queen preferred female hosts as was typical of most Goa’uld queens. Nevertheless, Seto wouldn’t dismiss the possibility of Isis taking a male host entirely. There was always an exception to every rule.

The only other Goa’uld Seto could think of to be the the cult leader’s true identity was Setesh. But Setesh was dead. Crushed beneath his temple. Seto was there. He’d _seen_ it happen. Granted, he’d never actually seen the snake’s corpse, buried as it was in its host High Priest Ahkenadin’s body. He supposed it was possible Setesh survived; but without a sarcophagus the false god would have needed to switch human hosts every four hundred years or so. Doable if problematic.

However, with a name like Seth… The Goa’uld were not known for their originality.

Seto leaned back in his chair and stared at his screen, silently demanding it to tell him everything he wanted to know. Eventually, he sighed and let his head fall back. The few stars still visible between the incoming clouds twinkled and the moon now had a ghostly white halo around it. One day, long ago, he’d dreamed of seeing the sky up close. Before he learned the truth of his race. Before he learned to hate everything Goa’uld. Before he found a friend and purpose in life in his Pharaoh.

Obelisk, god of the balance between darkness and light, give him stability and the determination to weather this. If this Seth Fargough really was Setesh, then Seto wanted _vengeance_ for what had been done to him and his Pharaoh. If it wasn’t, then it would still prove to be a good way to vent some pent up anger.

But Yugi couldn’t be there when he did. The Pharaoh would understand. Yugi wouldn’t.

“Seto?”

Startled by the unexpected voice, Seto sat up and looked over at the now open glass door where Mokuba peeked out. The boy’s black hair was sticking out in odd directions and there were wrinkles on his cheeks from the pillows he’d slept on.

Mokuba couldn’t see the full force of Seto’s fury either. Not again. With any luck, Mokuba would neither see Seto’s fury nor discover Seto’s true identity until much, much later in his life.

“Go back to bed, Mokie,” Seto said, keeping his voice calm. “I’ll be joining you soon.”

“What?” Jounouchi snapped. “Our friend is out there,” he pointed towards the still waters of the Puget Sound, “stuck in a cult with _guns_ and _crazy people_ and you want to _sleep?!_ ”

“You said yourself he didn’t look like he was being forced or coerced into following them,” Seto countered calmly, crossing his arms over his chest. If the Goa’uld was indeed Setesh, then Seto had his suspicions for the reason behind Honda’s lack of resistance. “How do you know he didn’t just have a religious awakening?”

Jounouchi’s face flushed red in fury. Brown eyes burned as the Japanese-American slammed his fist down on the patio table. “You and I both know Honda’s not like that,” he snarled.

“Do we?” Set asked mildly.

“Both of you, stop this at once!”

Seto snapped his attention to Yugi in shock. The sight took his breath away. Shadow-touched violet eyes blazed with frustrated determination that was strong enough to slam against Seto’s Shadows like a hammer on an anvil. Instinctively, Seto pushed back. He served of his own choice, not because he was forced to. He may not be the Pharaoh’s equal in rank, but he was his equal in every other way. He refused to accept anything less. He would _never_ submit.

Yugi’s gaze sharpened as if just noticing something of interest before moving to Jounouchi. “We need to work together on this, Jounouchi,” he said, authority coloring every word he spoke. “Don’t let him bait you.”

Seto snorted. “Not like it’s difficult,” he taunted.

Jounouchi’s gaze could have burned holes in a weaker man. Pity really. Seto would never be a weaker man. He’d won, again.

“That goes for you too, Kaiba,” Yugi said. “Control yourself.”

A command. Unable to formulate a decent response, Seto settled for a disgruntled glare.

“Big brother?” Mokuba called, resting a hand on Seto’s arm. “What’s going on?”

“Your brother’s going to help us get our friend back, Mokuba,” Yugi explained, his voice somehow gentle despite the absolute authority Seto could still feel within his Shadows. “You should get some rest.”

“I’m not tired,” Mokuba said earnestly. “I want to help.”

“You can,” Seto said, hating himself for giving in so easily. “You’ll be presenting the talk tomorrow regarding the SolidVision upgrades.”

The young boy jolted in surprise. “What?” he gasped. “But that’s _your_ specialty. You’ve been planning this presentation for months.”

And he was going to be cursing himself to an early grave for missing this opportunity. Unfortunately, when the Pharaoh called, Seto had to answer.

“A presentation that you know just as well as I do,” Seto said instead, meeting his little brother’s midnight blue gaze. “You’ll do fine. If anyone doesn’t take you seriously, remember their names. If they can’t handle you giving them perfectly good information, then they aren’t worth my time or my company’s support.”

Mokuba blinked then burst into a brilliant grin, a sparkle of glee in his eyes. “You’re evil,” he said proudly. Enthusiastic young arms latched onto Seto’s body in a childishly tight hug that Seto would kill to always feel. “I love you, big brother.”

“Go to sleep, Mokie,” he said gently, waiting for his little brother to let go. “Just because I trust you to take over my presentation doesn’t mean I expect you to do it on no sleep.”

Mokuba just grinned and gave Seto a mock salute, waved at Yugi, and stuck his tongue out at Jounouchi before hurrying back inside. The mutt’s squawk of indignation was worth it. Seto had trained his younger brother well.

“Brat takes too much after you,” Jounouchi grumbled.

“Jealousy?” Seto teased. “From you?” He blinked, giving the mutt a bored once over. “I must be dreaming.”

“Screw you.”

Yugi sighed. This was going to be a long night. Better start on it now.

“You said you followed Honda on his motorcycle,” Seto said, facing Jounouchi. “Do you still have it?”

The blonde blinked in surprise. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Why?” he added suspiciously.

“Because, I can only fit one other person on my motorcycle,” Seto said, closing his laptop firmly, “and that person will most certainly never be you.”

“Yeah, well I don’t exactly trust you with Yugi either, bud,” Jounouchi said rolling his eyes.

Seto tapped his fingers on the smooth silver metal of his computer. “Call me that again,” he lifted his gaze to the human, “and I will make sure you can’t talk for a hour.”

The mutt glared back at him, but unsurprisingly kept silent.

“We’re leaving now?” Yugi asked, already getting to his feet.

“Better to move at night,” Seto replied, standing and moving back into his hotel room. “Fewer people, fewer chances of being stopped. Do you need to grab anything before we go?”

Both Yugi and Jounouchi shook their heads. “We only have one helmet, though,” Yugi admitted. “Jounouchi locked it to the motorcycle in the parking garage.”

“Wear this one then,” Seto said, casually tossing Mokuba’s smaller helmet at the Pharaoh. “At least it’ll get your obnoxious hair out of my sight.”

Yugi snickered. “Thank you again, Kaiba.”

Whatever. He was getting something out of this too after all. It had been a while since he could properly vent some old anger out on a deserving target.


	3. Accomplice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seto makes a decision, Yugi suspects he's missing something, and Jounouchi isn't sure what to think about being an accomplice to an asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This is a longer chapter, upwards of 4k words. I'm exhausted, have had a long day, and have an early wake-up call tomorrow. I'm off to the Yellow Daisy Festival. Worth it, but dang I love my sleep. -_- That said, I'll edit this seriously tomorrow.

It took a full two hours to arrive at the gated cult complex. The moon and stars were completely hidden by clouds now and it had started to drizzle. It wasn’t enough to cause too much trouble, but it was annoying. Seto’s pristine white motorcycle would need to be cleaned after this. He should have known the roads in this area were dirt and not paved. Heathens. Cities were so much more civilized.

The gates visible in his headlights were locked shut because of course they were. Nothing was ever easy. Good thing he chose dark colors. If he’d gone with his lighter trenchcoat and it got dirty, he would’ve been very put out. Pulling up next to Honda’s motorcycle, he slowed to a stop. His booted feet touched the dirt road and he straightened in his seat.

The clear plexiglass visor of his helmet was covered in streaks of water from the drizzle and his clothes were beginning to stick to his arms uncomfortably. Instead of a solid stone or brick wall encircling the cult’s property, it was a simple iron pole fence broken by stone columns. Easy to break into, easy to break out of. Supposedly. Seto doubted anyone who went in ever wanted to come out. Setesh could be… persuasive.

Next to him, Jounouchi pushed up the visor of his helmet and nodded to the gate. “That’s it,” he said. “I parked just up that way,” he pointed to a small side road to the left, “then climbed the fence in the trees over there,” he nodded to the forested area along the left side of the gates. “Made it a good few hundred feet before I saw the guns and hightailed it out of there.”

Seto sat back and crossed his arms as he considered his options. If he played his cards right, he could probably get away with walking right through the front door. Yugi and Jounouchi, however, would not be so lucky. Setesh would dose them with his nish’ta toxin as soon as look at them and unless Seto could come up with a legitimate reason to electrocute them -he could think of several for the mutt- then bringing them out of the drug-induced haze of obedience would be difficult.

Next option. Use the complex itself against Setesh. The Goa’uld weren’t typically original. Even if they were, it was always a good idea to have an escape route hidden somewhere in case something unpleasant were to happen. Seto himself made good use of his own underground tunnel when Pegasus’ goons tried to kill him. Seto may hate Setesh to Ammit’s gullet and back, but the former System Lord wasn’t stupid.

“When you were in the complex, did you find a tunnel anywhere?” he asked, turning to the two riders on the motorcycle next to him.

The mutt frowned. “No. Wasn’t exactly looking though.”

“Why do you ask?” Yugi ventured, shifting on the wet seat behind Jounouchi.

“I want you two to go back the way you got in the first time,” Seto said. “Scour the place. Look for a tunnel entrance of some kind. It could be anything: a pile of logs, a sewer grate, an outhouse, anything. Find it and go inside but _do not_ wander around. Am I clear?”

“You seem to know a lot about this sort of thing,” Yugi said warily.

Seto rolled his eyes and looked back at the locked gates. “We have a lot in common,” he said.

“What,” Jounouchi said in a tone that was almost taunting. “You both kidnap people and force them to do your dirty work?”

“Jounouchi, stop it,” Yugi groaned.

“We both think ahead, expect to be attacked from all sides, and have backup plans when the first ones fail,” Seto answered evenly. He adjusted his stance, shifting the weight of his motorcycle to his other side. “He’ll be expecting an attack from the sides, not the front and back at the same time.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Yugi said, the grin audible in his voice.

Seto matched it with a smirk of his own. “Most likely.” He shot a sharp glare at the Pharaoh. “Lapdog-”

Jounouchi growled. “Listen, you little shit-”

“No matter what happens,” Seto said, steamrolling over Jounouchi’s words, “Yugi can _not_ be captured.”

Instantly, Jounouchi’s face cleared of any anger or amusement. Brown eyes held Seto’s blue for several quiet seconds before he nodded seriously. “You got it,” he said.

A throat cleared. “I’m right here, you know,” Yugi grumbled.

“I’m aware,” Seto snapped. “I’m also aware of your ridiculous lack of propensity when it comes to your friends’ safety.”

“They’re my friends,” Yugi said fiercely, the absolute authority that made Seto’s Shadow shudder filtering into the boy’s voice. “They’d help me if I needed it. They've done it before.”

“And we’ll do it again, no problem,” Jounouchi said easily. “But Seto’s right, and man do I hate myself for saying that.”

“I have witnesses,” Seto said. “You can’t take it back.”

“I can take care of myself,” Yugi argued. “Honda needs help and-”

“And he’ll get it, trust me,” Jounouchi said earnestly. “Look, Yug’, I’m not arguin’ with you. But think about it. This guy’s got crazy people with guns. Big guns. Think of what would happen if he got his hands on your Puzzle.”

Yugi fell abruptly silent.

“We can discuss this later,” Seto said, revving his engine and turning towards the side road, “right now we need a plan.”

“If we find the back door, we can get in that way,” Yugi offered.

Only if it had stairs to the main complex and not something else like Rings. “Let’s hide our bikes and deal with planning once we’re out of sight,” he said aloud.

“Fine by me,” Jounouchi said, popping his visor back down to protect his eyes and turning his motorcycle to lead the way.

The side road was in worse condition than the main road, if that muddy mess could be called a main road. About fifty feet from the turn off, the road curved out of sight where tree limbs hung thick over the dirt and thick underbrush. Abruptly, the blinker on Honda’s motorcycle turned on and Jounouchi pulled over into the thicker mud on the shoulder. Seto followed, turning off his engine and dismounting when Yugi did.

Jounouchi walked his borrowed bike behind a thick bush by a large tree and parked it there. He looped a thick cable through Honda’s and Yugi’s helmets, through a spoke of the back wheel, and around the tree, locking it in place with a padlock. Seto wasn’t so crude. He kicked the duel kickstand down and activated the biometric lock. It may still be in the test phases, but he knew the electric shock would work no matter what. Popping open the storage underneath the seat, he pulled out a small bag of personal belongings he’d hoped he would never have to use again. In its place, he put his helmet.

“This way.”

Seto followed the mutt and Yugi without a word. The fence wasn’t far, maybe twenty feet or so from the road. Iron bars rose ten feet into the air with only two horizontal crossbars, one a foot from the ground and the other a foot from the top. Climbing this wouldn’t be easy with the lack of handholds. The stone columns, however, were a different story.

Jounouchi made a beeline for the nearest stone column and started climbing. When he reached the top, he sat down and helped haul Yugi up after him. Yugi planted a foot on the top crossbar and swung down to the other side where the ground sloped upwards. He landed with a grunt but otherwise seemed fine. Jounouchi hopped down after him. Seto followed in a few quick moves that resulted in a muttered, “Show off” from the mutt.

* * *

Yugi found himself smiling despite the situation. Kaiba always did have a flair for the dramatic. Shaking his head, he fell into step next to the young businessman behind Jounouchi. Unseen by the others, Yami hovered next to him keeping an eye open for anything they might have missed.   

Yugi felt a brief flash of jealousy for his other half. Being out in unfamiliar woods at night in the rain, even though it wasn’t heavy rain, was miserable. At least Yami was incorporeal; he couldn’t feel the dismal dampness.

A prickle of amusement nudged his mind and Yugi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course Yami would find amusement in this whole thing. The spirit’s humor always was a bit off. Offense followed quickly by sheepish agreement did bring a small smile to Yugi’s face. Coolness brushed his shoulder where Yami bumped him in a friendly nudge.

Jounouchi’s pace slowed to a stop and Yugi stepped up next to his friend. Kaiba and Jounouchi took up positions near a large tree trunk near the edge of the wooded area. Jounouchi crouched by a protruding root, the hood of his dark blue sweatshirt pulled up to cover his blonde hair. Thankfully, Yugi was short enough to be completely hidden by the large, leafy bush near Jounouchi’s feet. Strangely, Kaiba stood back a bit from the tree, almost completely shrouded in shadow. If not for his electric blue eyes, the older boy would have easily vanished into the darkness.

“That’s it.”

At his friend’s voice, Yugi turned his attention to the green roofed white building beyond the treeline. It was hard to see clearly in the watery night, but the handful of lit windows on the topmost floor indicated at least someone was awake. Movement on the deck caught Yami’s attention and Yugi followed his other half’s gaze.

Oh. Wow. That… was a big gun. Jounouchi was right. There was no way a gun like that could be anything but military grade. Which meant the movement Yami saw must be the person ordered to keep watch.

Yugi had accompanied his friend when Jounouchi rode after Honda, but he’d stayed outside the complex gate and only heard about the guns. Jounouchi was known to exaggerate every now and then, but the fear in his friend’s brown eyes had made it clear that ‘a lot of guns’ meant ‘a lot of guns.’ Still, _hearing_ about the guns and actually _seeing_ them… It hammered home how dangerous this situation really was.

_:Have faith, aibou.:_

Warmth bloomed in Yugi’s chest, easing the tension there and offering comfort where it could. He traced the Eye of Ra on the smooth, gold surface of the Millennium Puzzle in thanks. He and Yami may have gotten off to a rocky start -it had taken a while to explain why burning someone alive was not okay no matter the circumstances- but they were becoming a great team. Together with Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu, they’d managed to block out the powers of Pegasus J. Crawford’s Millennium Eye and win back the souls of his Grandpa, Kaiba, and Mokuba. If they could do that, they could do anything.

Deep laughter echoed proudly in his mind, taking the edge off of Yugi’s fear. They saved their friends before. They would do it again. No matter what.

“Not many points of entry,” Kaiba said, his low voice barely audible over the sound of raindrops on leaves. “That could be a problem. Did you get a headcount of cultists?”

Jounouchi shook his head. “Not a reliable one, no,” he said. “I saw five guys standing guard on the deck with guns, but I’ll bet there’re at least a dozen more inside.”

Kaiba hummed thoughtfully. “I’d triple that count and all it conservative.” He sighed through his nose. “The rest will probably be unarmed, most likely women. No children.”

“None?” Yugi asked, lifting his gaze to the stern duelist.

“None.”

Both Yugi and Yami studied Kaiba’s stony expression with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Something about this Seth person put Kaiba on edge. When Yami read over the website Kaiba had open on his computer back at the hotel, he hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Most of it was a bunch of bogus claims about healing powers, glowing eyes, and the supposed greatness of Seth Fargough. Nothing stood out as particularly interesting.

And yet something had disturbed Kaiba. The only time Yugi ever remembered seeing the business mogul’s face pale that quickly had been when Kaiba realized he wasn’t going to win their duel on the castle ledge. When Kaiba silently acknowledged his loss but fought anyway, choosing to go down fighting rather than surrender, daring Yami to attack and kill him.

It worried Yugi. The Kaiba he’d come to know since Duelist Kingdom was not the same young man who’d put his Grandpa in the hospital and created a death themed amusement park. This was a strategist who was absolutely loyal to what he deemed worthy of his attention, who didn’t give up no matter the resistance, and who fought to the bitter end. Kaiba was becoming someone Yugi found himself wanting to be friends with.

The way Kaiba’s face gentled to what passed as a smile whenever he looked at Mokuba and thought no one else was looking… It was startling how different it made him look. Gone was the dangerous strategist who continued to be the best duelist Yami and Yugi had ever faced. In his place was an older brother who wanted nothing more than to protect and provide for the younger brother he adored. The two personas together, the strategist and the brother, were Kaiba Seto, someone Yugi would be proud to call friend.

Seeing him disturbed like this made Yugi wonder what the older duelist knew that Yugi didn’t.

“What’re you thinkin’, Yug’?” Jounouchi said, glancing at his friend. “Personally, I’ve got a lot of ideas, but most of them end up with us getting caught and shot to death.”

“That’s why you’re the lapdog and Yugi’s your master.”

Sometimes, Yugi wondered if Kaiba said things like that just to get a reaction. If so, it always worked. With a sigh, Yugi mentally stepped back and allowed Yami dominance for the time being.

“Now is not the time for nonsense,” the spirit of the Puzzle said through Yugi’s mouth. They both noticed the instant Kaiba’s gaze locked onto him, boring into them as if those blue eyes could see both of them. “As far as I can recall, I’ve never broken into a place like this," Yami admitted with a grimace. "As dangerous and heavily guarded as Duelist Kingdom was, I was invited there. The guards were to keep us _in,_ not keep us _out.”_ He narrowed his eyes and lifted an eyebrow at his rival. “You have experience and I’m open to ideas.”

Something like surprise flickered in Kaiba’s eyes before they hardened in determination. He palmed something small out of his pocket and tossed it to Yugi. “Keep that with you,” he said grimly. “It’s a short-range communication device. I’ll contact you when I find motorcycle boy.”

 _:I don’t like the sound of that,:_ Yugi thought.

 _:Neither do I,:_ Yami agreed. “You say that as if you plan to go in alone,” he said aloud.

“Hardly,” Kaiba said, regaining some of his familiar arrogance. “I’ll be taking the mutt with me.”

“Ex _cuse me?”_ Jounouchi cried, the volume earning him a burning glare.

Yugi blinked in astonishment. _:He… what?:_ Yugi gasped. Kaiba _wanted_ Jounouchi with him?

“What are you talking about?" Yami demanded in shocked confusion. "We’re all going together.”

“No, we aren’t,” Kaiba said, leaving no room for argument. “One of us needs to stay outside. The cult is armed to the teeth, Yugi. That means it’s only a matter of time before someone does something stupid. Whether someone inside gets trigger happy, an angry parent storms the place, or law enforcement gets involved. If we’re all inside, we’ll have no warning and be caught in the crossfire.” Blue eyes glinted like lightning. “People _will_ die.”

Yugi felt the spirit of the Puzzle wince and pressed his mind close in sympathy. Neither of them wanted that. Slipping back into control of his body, Yugi studied the odd gilded purple and black device in his hand while his thoughts raced.

“What do you need me to do?” he said, tightening his grip on the device and meeting Kaiba’s gaze once more.

Blue eyes softened at the corners. “Find the underground entrance to the complex,” the duelist said. “Let me know when you do.”

“How do I know my voice won’t get you caught?” Yugi asked seriously.

“It’s paired with this one.” Kaiba said, pulling another identical device out of his pocket and holding it up. “It only works if I’m holding the other device. It only transmits audio and while it’s sensitive enough to pick up a whisper, its speaker isn’t particularly loud. You’ll have to hold it close to hear a reply.”

“What about me?” Jounouchi said, leaning against the tree so he could keep an eye on both Kaiba and the cultists. “Do I get one?”

“No,” Kaiba said, shifting his dark blue trench coat and tucking his hands back into the black pants pockets. “You won’t need one.”

Jounouchi hesitated. “Why?” he asked suspiciously.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Kaiba snapped, eyeing his dumbstruck companions. “I don’t want you anywhere near me. But for this particular plan to work, I need you. So you'll be staying with me.”

 _:What is that saying again, aibou?:_ Yami murmured. _:Perhaps we should keep an eye out for winged pigs as well as armed cultists.:_

A small smile began to tug at Yugi’s lips. Maybe there was hope for Kaiba yet.

“I thought you didn’t trust me,” Jounouchi said, getting to his feet.

“I don’t.”

Ah. Well, maybe not.

* * *

This was wild. He smelled a rat. Kaiba didn’t just help people unless he knew he got something out of it too. The guy was inherently a selfish, arrogant, asshole.

“Yugi.”

Speaking of. Yugi looked at Kaiba expectantly. Honestly, Jounouchi couldn’t for the life of him figure out what Yugi saw in moneybags.

“Go back the way we came and contact me using the device,” Kaiba said, nodding towards the forest behind him. “I need to know it works before we risk doing this.”

Risk, his ass. Though, Jounouchi was careful not to say that out loud until he was sure Yugi wouldn’t hear.

“Jounouchi.”

…um… Someone pinch him because he could swear moneybags just called him by name.

“You’re right. I don’t trust you.”

“Obviously,” Jounouchi muttered, keeping his eyes on Kaiba. Was it just him, or did Kaiba look… stressed?

“What I _do_ trust is your luck,” blue eyes flashed to his brown and Jounouchi tensed, “and your loyalty.”

He knew it. “You know something about this Seth guy. I swear,” he raised a finger and held it right in the bastard’s face, “if I even _think_ you’re putting Yugi in danger, I will break your goddamn face.”

Kaiba held his gaze for a full three seconds before the bastard smirked. “Case and point.”

Huh?

“Your loyalty to Yugi in unquestioning and unwavering,” Kaiba said, voice cold and even. “You’d rather die than see him hurt.”

“Well, yeah,” he said because _duh_ that was obvious. “He’s my friend. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because,” a hand snatched Jounouchi’s hand and yanked it out of moneybags’ face, “most friendships die when push comes to shove and it’s them or you.”

“That’s a lame way to live,” Jounouchi said, trying to free his hand from that hold because _damn that hurt_.

“Reality tends to be that way.”

The iron grip released and Jounouchi was not above gasping and clutching his aching hand to his chest protectively.

“I also trust your luck,” Kaiba continued. “Believe it or not, your luck is rare and an ability in and of itself.”

Well damn if that wasn’t a compliment.

“If there’s trouble anywhere within a hundred mile radius of either of you, with your luck, you’ll walk right into it,” Kaiba continued, and yeah. Only Kaiba could make a compliment an insult. “But your luck also ensures you get out of it.”

Okay. Now he was confused. _Was_ he being complimented?

Kaiba sighed and his shoulders seemed to droop a bit. Had Kaiba been anyone else, Jounouchi would swear the guy was… trying to make himself smaller.

“What I’m about to do is neither wise nor sane,” Kaiba said and, for once, Jounouchi paid close attention. “I need your help to make sure this works. But before I take that risk, I need you to promise that anything you see, anything you hear, you do _not tell Yugi.”_

Jounouchi was already shaking his head. “No can do,” he said. “I won’t lie to him.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Kaiba countered, crossing his arms.

Yeah, that was definitely a withdrawal. Jounouchi did _not_ like this. Not one bit.

“Do you have any idea what that thing around Yugi’s neck is?”

Oh hell.

“You do. Good. Do you want that thing in anyone’s hands other than Yugi’s?”

Why…? He swallowed over a suddenly very dry throat. “Not a chance,” he admitted. “It’d destroy him.”

A perfectly plucked eyebrow lifted and for a second, Jounouchi caught a glimpse of the old Kaiba arrogance. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” Kaiba said. “Did you know Pegasus had the Millennium Eye?”

“Yeah." Jounouchi glared. “You seem to know a lot about that.”

“I had my soul ripped out thanks to that infernal Item,” Kaiba snapped, fury and hatred gleaming in his too blue eyes. “You think I didn’t do my research?”

Well, when you put it that way…

“If Seth is who I think he is,” and Jounouchi knew Kaiba didn’t mean _think_ so much as _know,_ “then the last place you want Yugi is anywhere within a _thousand_ mile radius of him.”

Oh. Shit.

“And you just sent Yugi back there _alone?”_ he cried. He whirled around to race after his best friend, only to find an inhumanly strong arm loop around his stomach and hold him back.

“I sent him _back,”_ Kaiba hissed, “to protect him.”

“From a guy _you told_ me _knows_ about the Millennium Puzzle?” Jounouchi demanded, trying vainly to get around the bastard’s arm. Seriously, since when was Kaiba so strong?

The arm jerked, pushing Jounouchi back causing to flail for balance. Before he could recover, long fingers latched onto his throat and Jounouchi found himself slammed back against the tree trunk.

“I _never_ said that,” Kaiba snarled. “Incidentally, yes, Seth does know about the Puzzle. He’s seen it before. But he thinks its destroyed and the other Items lost. If he found out the Puzzle was not only whole but nearby, he will _kill_ Yugi and take it from him. And unlike Pegasus, Seth won’t give him a chance to fight back.”

Jounouchi froze. The pressure on his throat eased enough for him to breathe, but not enough for him to relax. Damn it all, he _hated_ this.

Wait. Wait a second. Kaiba said he needed him, however unbelievable that was, admitted to his plan being insane, and then sent Yugi away so they could talk privately. None of those things were typical of Kaiba. So Jounouchi was missing something.

_"Kaiba?”_

Yugi?!

_“Kaiba, can you hear me?”_

Kaiba lifted his own communicator to his lips and answered, “I can.”

_“Okay. I’m coming back then.”_

“No. Wait there.”

_“What? Why?”_

Kaiba moved the device away from him and stared Jounouchi down. “You and I are going to draw Seth’s attention and _keep it on us_ while Yugi looks for Honda.”

“But you said Yugi was going to stay out here and-”

Oh. _Oh._ Jounouchi felt so stupid. Yugi would _never_ stay put in safety as long as he knew his friends were in danger. He’d try to save them. And Kaiba _knew that_. The guy was _betting_ on it.

“That’s where your loyalty and luck come in,” Kaiba continued. “I know you won’t betray Yugi. I also know that if anything happens to him, you’ll run to his side and protect him without question. I’m counting on your ridiculous luck to get us in there and Yugi out of there in one piece.”

No pressure. Geez. Jounouchi gulped.

“Okay,” he said slowly, nodding as best he could. “Okay. I can do that. But why don’t you want Yugi to know what happens in there?”

Woah. Now there was an expression Jounouchi never thought he’d see on the bastard’s face. Kaiba looked… lost. It was only for a split second, but Jounouchi hadn’t missed it. He wouldn’t forget it either.

“Because,” Kaiba said finally, “he doesn’t remember.”

Jounouchi frowned. “Doesn't remember wha-”

Wait. Yugi wasn’t the one with memory problems. That was… Yami. Did... Did Kaiba _know?!_

“He won’t understand,” Kaiba continued. “He’ll ask questions I can’t answer. So if you want to protect him, then you’ll keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. Am I clear?”

Hidden by his wet sneakers, Jounouchi crossed his toes. “Crystal.”

Withdrawing his hand, Kaiba held up the communicator. “Stay where you are. We’re coming to you.”

With one last glance at the cult complex, Kaiba stalked back into the darkness after Yugi leaving Jounouchi to follow after him.

“What took you so long?” Yugi asked, violet eyes wide with worry. Not a hint of suspicion.

Even though he couldn’t see him, Jounouchi knew the spirit Yami was watching him through Yugi’s eyes. Jounouchi knew Yami was possibly the most possessively protective of Yugi out of their whole gang. If anything happened to Yugi, Yami would deal with it. It may have been a good long while since someone suffered one of the spirit’s infamous Penalty Games -he did not glance at Kaiba- but Jounouchi knew Yami would go back to his old ways in a heartbeat if he thought it would protect Yugi.

“Nothing,” Kaiba said, striding past Yugi without a second glance. “We need to find the back way into the complex. Jounouchi and I will get in that way and deal with Seth.”

“What about me?” Yugi asked earnestly.

“We’re the bait,” Jounouchi said, feeling the weight of his best friend’s gaze settle on him. “You’re going to sneak in while we keep them busy. Then contact us when you’ve found Honda. We’ll get him out together.”

He added that last part with a pointed look at Kaiba. Blue eyes flashed to him in annoyance, but moneybags didn’t argue. Good. This had to work. Because when this was over, Jounouchi wanted _answers._


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jounouchi learns a few things that don't _quite_ break his mind and Yugi can be sneaky when he wants to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/n:** Two updates in two days. Nice. I'm exhausted though and have an early morning. Again. I need a break. T_T I did a rough edit but I'll edit this more seriously tomorrow. Enjoy~

It took them a couple long, dismal hours of trudging through the muck and rain and underbrush to find the hatch. Actually, Yugi tripped over it. Effective but stubbed toes were murder. Jounouchi didn’t care how high and mighty someone was. When you stubbed your toe, all your hit points went to zero. Period.

Moneybags didn’t spare Yugi a glance as he stalked over to the cement structure about three feet in diameter and examined it. Together, they hauled branches off of it so debris no longer covered the iron hatch in the center. Honestly, the thing just looked like an above ground manhole to the sewer. Oh, yeah. This was going to be _so_ much fun.

“This it?” he asked.

Instead of answering him like a normal person, Kaiba gripped the handle on the hatch and lifted it revealing a tunnel to blackness. Iron rungs lined the cement wall on the way down. Creepy but cool. If only someone brought a flashlight.

“I’ll go first,” Kaiba said suddenly. “Yugi, you come after me. The puppy can take rear guard.”

Do. Not. Punch. Him.

Swinging a leg over the ledge, Kaiba began climbing down. Yugi waited until only Kaiba’s head was visible before climbing in after him. Jounouchi climbed in last, making sure to pull the hatch closed behind them.

It was pitch black dark. He couldn’t even see the rungs he was holding on to. He hated this. Honda owed him a week’s worth of pizza dinners for this. No exceptions.

He was so focused on making sure his hands found the rungs and his footing didn’t slip that he stumbled when he felt solid ground beneath his foot when he’d only expected air. Well, he had to reach the bottom eventually, he supposed.

“What’s that light over there?” Yugi whispered.

Looking over his right shoulder, Jounouchi squinted into the darkness and, sure enough, there was the faintest hint of red-gold light around the corner of the tunnel. The walls were made of dark, cement-like stone and dirt that swallowed most of the light before it reached their little group. But hey, Jounouchi wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As long as the lights didn’t mean guns.

“Stay behind me,” Kaiba commanded, keeping his voice low so it didn’t echo.

Glancing around curiously, Jounouchi followed his friend and rival down the tunnel. It turned several corners before opening up to a large, round room. From what he could see, it was empty. There were a few lights that glowed a dull red-gold mounted on the walls, but that was it. Nothing else. No windows and no doors.

“A dead end?” he muttered.

Kaiba spat something that was definitely a curse word and definitely _not_ Japanese _or_ English. It was soft but echoed eerily in the empty tunnel. Yugi visibly jerked and stared at moneybags in shock.

“Wha- Where did you hear _that?!”_ he gasped.

“I’ve been around,” Kaiba said, glaring at the room as if expecting it to bite him. From what Jounouchi had seen in the past few years, that wouldn’t be completely unheard of. “Mutt,” he said sharply, “with me. Yugi, head back to the surface.”

“But I thought-”

“Let me know when you’re back at the lookout point,” Kaiba continued. “When you see the guards go inside, you’re on your own.”

Jounouchi watched the two duelists share a look that said more than words could. Then Yugi’s eyes hardened.

“Fine,” he said, nodding. “And if you find Honda?”

“If we find him, I’ll contact you,” Kaiba said. “If you find him, contact me _after_ you’ve made it out. Whatever you do, do _not_ let the Puzzle out of your control.”

Yugi nodded and turned to Jounouchi. Whatever he was going to say was lost in a hug and a muffled “Make it out, Joey.”

Jounouchi chuckled and ruffled his best friend’s hair playfully before shoving the squirt back down the tunnel. “See you in a couple hours, buddy,” he said, waving.

He waited until Yugi’s footsteps had completely faded away before letting the reassuring smile drop. Rolling his shoulders to ease the tension, he stepped up to Kaiba’s side.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m guessing there’s something more to this room than meets the eye.”

“There is.”

Blue eyes lifted to the ceiling and while Jounouchi couldn’t see anything, he didn’t doubt there was something there. He sighed and nodded.

“Okay then. Anything else I need to know before we dive into this mess headfirst like the idiots we are?” he asked.

It took a few seconds for Kaiba to reply. “You won’t like it.”

Jounouchi snorted. “Newsflash, I don’t like any of this. Details.”

“Don’t use my name,” Kaiba said sternly. “I use a pseudonym here. You familiar with Egyptian mythology?”

Well, considering Yugi’s Millennium Puzzle was Egyptian and they all suspected the spirit Yami was once a Pharaoh, yeah. Jounouchi had done some research. Not much mind, but after that crazy Egyptian Shadi decided to brainwash Honda and Anzu a while back, Jounouchi made it a point to at least get the basics down.

He shrugged. “A bit,” he admitted. “I know Ra, Horus, some cat lady goddess, Isis, and a few other things. Enough to get by.”

“Are you familiar with the Great Ennead?”

“Uh…”

“Osiris, Isis, Set, and Nephthys?” Kaiba clarified. “There’re others, but those are the only ones that matter right now.”

“I know Osiris and Isis,” he said. “They were married or something, right?”  Not that he ever really cared about the details before now.

Kaiba tilted his head in a subtle nod. “Long story short, they weren’t gods. They were… people.”

Okay. Jounouchi wasn’t the smartest person in the room. He knew that. But that pause before ‘people’ had definitely been an insult.

“Ra isn’t generally considered to be part of the Great Ennead, but he’s one of the major players,” Kaiba said, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Osiris, Isis, and Set all served under him. Set convinced Osiris and Isis to betray Ra, then betrayed them and turned them in. Ra punished them with,” he tilted his head and lifted a wry eyebrow, “a form of banishment.”

Jounouchi really wasn’t fond of the way Kaiba was picking and choosing his words. Also, since _when_ did Kaiba _know_ all of this? Where’d he read it? Jounouchi certainly didn’t remember anything like that before.

“Set was hoping to take over his sibling’s holdings after they lost Ra’s favo-”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Please tell him he heard wrong. “Siblings?” Jounouchi said flatly. “He was related to Osiris and Isis?”

Kaiba stared at him in annoyance. “Marriage between cousins and siblings was hardly unusual back then,” Kaiba ground out. “I don’t have much time so shut up and listen.”

“But-” Blue eyes blazed and Jounouchi decided he’d wait to ask his questions until moneybags was finished.

“As I was saying,” -that was unnecessary- “Set wanted his sibling’s power for himself. But Ra figured out Set was behind the whole thing and Set was forced to go into hiding.”

“What does that have to do with…” Brown eyes widened. “Set. As in _Seth?_ Are you saying this is a cult to the Egyptian god _Set?!”_

“He is _not_ a god!” Kaiba hissed viciously. “ _Remember_ that. No matter what happens, no matter what he _says_ , remember that he is _not_ a god.”

Jounouchi leaned back at moneybags’ unexpected vehemence. “Okay, okay. Not a god. Okay,” he said quickly, waving his hands in surrender.

Visibly reining himself in, Kaiba retreated. “Seth is not a god, though he will claim to be,” Kaiba explained. “He uses drugs to convince people to obey him. They become highly suggestible. If this comes to a fight, try not to kill them. Just knock them out.”

Was that mercy? From Kaiba?

“A body count is the last thing we need right now.”

Nope. He stood corrected. Not mercy. Just typical Kaiba logic. At least Jounouchi could get behind it, this time.

“An electric shock breaks the drug’s hold,” Kaiba continued. “You wouldn’t happen to have a taser on you.”

Jounouchi shook his head. Whelp. “Fuck.”

The glare he got for that didn’t _quite_ burn him alive on the spot, but it was pretty darn close. “No thanks.”

They fell into awkward silence, waiting for Yugi to call and let them know he was in position.

Very awkward silence.

“So how are we going to get inside from a room with no windows or doors?” he asked.

Kaiba hesitated. “Do you believe in aliens?”

Uh… He waited for Kaiba to elaborate. When he didn’t, Jounouchi floundered for words because _aliens?_ “Dude, what the fuck?” he breathed.

Thankfully, he was saved from answering by a soft beeping. Kaiba pulled out the small communicator and held it to his lips. “What is it?”

 _“I’m here,”_ Yugi said. He sounded slightly winded. Did he run there?

“Good.” Kaiba paused, rubbing a finger over the smooth, purple surface. “Any changes that you can see?”

_“No. I don’t think so. Um.”_

“What?”

_“I thought I saw a couple cars drive by on the road on the way here.”_

Kaiba grit his teeth. “Did they stop?”

_“Didn’t sound like it.”_

Nodding in relief, Kaiba glanced at Jounouchi. “Alright. Wait for the signal.”

_“Okay. What’ll it be?”_

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

Without waiting to hear Yugi’s reply, moneybags tucked the communicator back into his pocket and pulled something else out. It looked weird and silvery with a big red jewel in the center. He pulled it over his left hand -it was a glove?- so the jewel rested against his palm and his fingers slipped into the silver glove-finger-hole-things. From the way Kaiba flexed his fingers as if to check mobility, the thing fit.

“What is that?” Jounouchi asked. “Looks like a fancy glove-bracelet thing.”

“A kara kesh.”

Whatever that meant.

“It’s a weapon,” Kaiba elaborated at Jounouchi’s doubtful expression. “From here on out, your name is Wheeler. Not Jounouchi, not Joey, and not Katsuya. Just Wheeler.”

Jounouchi paled but straightened his shoulders and nodded. “And you?” he asked.

“Set.”

What?

“Seth will probably insist on calling me Nephthys. Just go with it.” Blue eyes locked on him. “You’ll be acting as my body guard so you’ll have to sell it. Don’t talk unless I tell you to and don’t do anything stupid. Seth has a short temper, greater numbers at his command, and the home field advantage.” A pause. “And if you see green smoke, hold your breath. While I’d enjoy electrocuting you, it won’t be easy to pull something like that off without someone noticing.”

…his brain hurt.

“One last thing.”

There’s _more?_

“If you tell Yugi about _any_ of this-”

“I know how to keep a secret, damn it,” Jounouchi snapped.

The gold-gloved hand snapped up and gripped his chin in an unbreakable hold. Seriously, since when did Kaiba get that strong? Jounouchi had been fighting his whole life. He should be able to loosen the hold just a bit. Cool metal dug into his skin painfully, forcing him to meet rich boy’s blue eyes, which flashed gold.

Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy _shit! What the actual fuck?!_ Kaiba’s eyes glowed. They _glowed!_

“For both our sakes, I hope you’re right.”

Something primal crawled up Jounouchi’s spine like spiders when he heard the warped deepening of Kaiba’s voice. It wasn’t human. It echoed in the empty underground chamber and set every nerve on fire. Jounouchi’s brain screamed at him to _fight it_ even though he desperately preferred to _run away._

That wasn’t Kaiba looking at him through those eyes. Those _glowing_ eyes. It wasn’t like when Yami spoke through Yugi. That was just a change in demeanor, voice tone, and presence. It was strange and authoritative, but friendly and familiar. This was cold, detached, and left Jounouchi with the distinct feeling that he was the prey, not the predator.

Deep breath. Calm down. Think about this. The grip on his chin was firm but it didn’t cut off his airway. He wasn’t choking or in danger of choking. He was just being held in place. He was in danger, but he wasn’t in _danger._ Now that he could think past the instinctive fear, he started to feel his muscles loosen up, readying themselves for a fight.

“Good.”

He tensed at the echoey _inhuman_ voice that came from Kaiba’s mouth.

“That’s what you need to look like.”

Abruptly, the hand clutching his chin was gone and Jounouchi was left standing on his own two feet staring into blue eyes that suddenly gave a whole new meaning to _ice cold._

“Get over your shock now,” Kaiba said, his voice returning to its usual, human intonations. “Seth won’t change his voice back to this. He’ll keep the overtones from before unless he has no other choice. If you’re going to pass as my guard, then you need to be aware of what kinds of insanity to expect.”

Jounouchi huffed. “There’re different kinds?”

This really wasn’t the time to joke, but damn it, it helped him handle this. Instead of lashing out at him like Jounouchi expected, Kaiba smirked.

“I expect a lot of explaining when this is all over,” Jounouchi said. “And a chiropractor too. If I have permanent spinal problems from your crazy arm strength, I’ll make sure you get every medical bill from now till I die.”

The smirk became a full blow grin and some of Jounouchi’s confidence trickled back.

“So,” he said, testing his boundaries, “aliens?”

“You deal with a soul stealing, mind reading imbecile with a magic gold eye but you find _aliens_ hard to believe?” Kaiba replied, taking the first step into the empty chamber, keeping close to the walls. Jounouchi followed rich boy’s example.

“Touché. Although, you look pretty human from where I'm standing,” he said. He watched as blue eyes flickered across the ceiling and wall obviously looking for something. “I gotta admit, you bein’ an alien certainly explains your lack of people skills.”

That hateful glare was _all_ Kaiba.

After circling the whole room, Kaiba took a deep breath, let it out through his nose, and stepped into the center of the room. Jounouchi quickly followed.

“Brace yourself,” Kaiba warned.

For what?

Gold light suddenly shone down on them from above and Jounouchi looked up at the now _open_ ceiling in shock. A series of metal rings dropped down around them, one on top of the other.

“Holy shi-”

* * *

It was much lighter outside now. Yugi checked his watch and groaned when he saw the time 6:42 AM on the dim readout. The clouds were still too thick to judge accurately, but Yugi thought the sun would be officially rising any minute now. It was still dim enough to muddle details up with dark shadows but bright enough to make the white of the cultists’ clothing seem to glow.

Whatever signal Kaiba planned to make, Yugi hoped he did it soon. The rain was still a steady drizzle which would help muffle any sound Yugi made while walking over tree branches and leaves. But the intensity was beginning to ease up. Once the rain stopped, Yugi would loose that extra layer of protection from detection.

He bit his lip and brushed his fingers over the Millennium Puzzle’s cool, golden surface. He could feel Yami’s ghostly presence kneeling next to him so close their shoulders almost touched. Worry skittered along the edges of his mind where Yami’s presence dwelled. It seemed Yugi wasn’t the only one concerned about Joey and Kaiba’s plan.

They hoped it worked.

A shrill cry went up from the complex accompanied by an odd flash of light from the windows. The guards all stopped what they were doing and left their posts, rushing to get inside. The silence that followed was eerie and Yugi took advantage of it.

He raced across the clearing to the bushes by the build’s white exterior. There were only a few windows on the ground floor and most of them were boarded up. From what he could see, the windows on the second floor weren’t boarded up but most of them were shuttered and dark. Although the dark part was quickly changing. Whatever stunt Kaiba and Jounouchi pulled, it had certainly gotten the cult’s attention.

He slunk along the white painted brick and wood building, protected from any prying eyes by the bushes and his dark colored clothes. Getting inside the building was turning out to be a bit harder than getting to the building. His friends drew away the guards, but with all the doors locked and the windows boarded up…

A sly grin that wasn’t all his own crept onto his face when he and Yami noticed the line of white clothes hanging from a wire underneath the large wooden deck above them. Laundry had to be done somehow. Considering the number of plain white dresses, shirts, and pants hanging out, Yugi doubted a single set would be missed. Just slide what was left to fill in the gaps like so and…

Ducking back into the bushes with his prize, Yugi began dressing. The white cloth shirt he pulled over his black tank top was a bit too large for him but the pants fit. They were loose but that seemed to be the design. Good thing too. Yugi hadn’t had much of a chance to check sizes. Pulling too-small pants over his black jeans? Talk about uncomfortable.

His combat boots he’d have to leave outside. They’d track mud throughout the complex. It wouldn’t be easy to hide that way. Kicking off his shoes, Yugi hid them in the bushes just out of sight of the laundry lines.

Now what?

Hinges creaked and Yugi whirled to see a door that was partially boarded up swing open. The woman who stepped out had tan skin and long brown hair that hung in fine ringlets around her face. Her dark eyes noticed him almost immediately and Yugi braced for the inevitable scream.

“Why are you doing this alone?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned. “Where is your partner?”

Um. Think quick.

Yugi blushed and offered the woman a shy smile. He rubbed his neck awkwardly and pointed to his mouth, shaking his head negatively as he did so. The woman blinked in confusion before her eyes widening in understanding. Then she smiled and walked over to join him, tugging one of the dry white dresses from the line and folding it neatly.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a friendly smile. “I didn’t realize you were mute. You must be one of the new disciples who came in yesterday.”

No, but Yugi nodded anyway.

The woman handed the freshly folded dress to Yugi who took it and waited for her to continue. “We’ve had several new disciples join this week,” she said proudly. “Seth is pleased.”

Thank goodness Yami’s snort of derision was only heard by Yugi.

“I think we might have even more join us shortly,” the woman said. She glanced over her shoulder towards the door in excitement. “Apparently someone is visiting our benevolent god. They always come in angry,” she lamented absently. “I wish them all the peace and happiness our god Seth has to offer.”

Yugi about dropped the freshly cleaned clothes on the dirty, wet ground in shock. He barely caught himself before opening his mouth to speak. A god?!

 _:It would appear,:_ Yami murmured in his mind, _:this Seth is a greater fool than I thought.:_


	5. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jounouchi hates missing things, Col. O'Neill is running short on time, and Yami wonders about this visiting 'god.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I've done a quick edit of this, but I have to go to bed now to get enough sleep for work tomorrow. I'll do some serious editing then.

He blinked and suddenly he was somewhere else with guns in his face. His body reacted before his mind caught up with him. He batted the muzzle of the closest machine gun out of his face, riding the momentum so his back was almost touching his assailant’s body. Then he jerked his elbow back, slamming it into the gunman’s stomach and knocking the wind out of him.

The gun slipped from the guy’s limp hands and Jounouchi snatched it. His left hand caught the black handguard while his right gripped the pistol grip. He slammed the butt of the gun against the man’s head before bracing it against his shoulder. Swinging the barrel up so a comfortable position, he adjusted his stance and prepared to shoot.

Only then did he begin to panic. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins giving him energy and the kind of hyper awareness that made him so efficient on the streets before he met Yugi. He’d never handled a gun like this, that was restricted to the older members of his gang. But he was ashamed to admit he did know his way around a handgun. Luckily, he never had to use one.

Yet.

He could tell he and Kaiba were outnumbered. If they didn’t get the heck out of this room, they’d end up cornered and very likely dead. Then a strange sound accompanied by a strange red-gold glow flickered in the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he glanced over his shoulder and did a double-take when Kaiba _blasted_ three gunmen into the wall hard enough to leave dents.

Lowering his silver gloved left hand, Kaiba’s eyes flashed gold and vicious. “You dare,” he snarled in an inhuman voice.

The room suddenly felt darker and more oppressive. The same primal fear Jounouchi felt when Kaiba first flashed his eyes at him tingled across his skin again now. It wasn’t as bad as before, though. Maybe because this time, it wasn’t focused on him. The gun wielding cultists, however, seemed to be feeling the full force of this terror.

Was Kaiba creating this sensation?

“Where is Setesh?” Kaiba demanded, his voice still unnaturally deep and echoey.

Setesh? Who was that? Seth? Geez. How many names did that cult leader even have?

A cultist charged Kaiba, raising his gun to strike Kaiba on the side of the head, but Kaiba was faster. The rich duelist tilted his head to avoid the blow and parried the second strike, sending the cultist stumbling into Jounouchi’s range. Jounouchi planted a foot firmly on the man’s back, pinning him on the floor with his gun between the floorboards and the cultist’s white clothed chest and pressed the barrel to the man’s head.

This would only work if these crazies valued their comrade’s life. If they didn’t-

He blinked and barely had time to react when someone else appeared on his right. Kaiba reacted faster. The metallic hum buzzed near Jounouchi’s left ear and the attacker was blown back against the far wall by a golden shockwave. The cultist blinked dizzily, dropped his gun, and slumped to the floor unconscious.

Dude.

Jounouchi looked back and saw the red jewel in the center of Kaiba’s silver glove dim. That dinky little thing did _that?_ Woah.

Movement behind Kaiba.

“Behind you!”

Whirling, Kaiba brought up his hand and the strange metallic hum came to life again. This one was slightly different than the one that created the shockwave, but that red-gold glow was identical. What Jounouchi could only describe as a funnel of energy bridged the gap between Kaiba’s hand device and his attacker’s forehead.

Instantly, the man froze, eyes wide in pained horror. Jounouchi had no idea what Kaiba was doing to the guy but as long as it kept them alive and didn’t kill the cultist, he was okay with it. Mostly. He’d have nightmares about this later but what else was new. He watched as Kaiba’s former attacker dropped his weapon from nerveless fingers and thudded to his knees, gurgling half formed words and pained moans.

He glanced briefly up at Kaiba’s face and bit back the disturbing feeling that settled in his stomach. Kaiba’s blue eyes were cold, hard, and unfeeling, totally unaffected by the person he was effectively torturing.

“Where. Is. Setesh?” Kaiba hissed. “You will tell me, or you will die and I will still get what I want.”

“Enough!”

Startled, Jounouchi immediately swung his weapon around, aiming it squarely at the person who stood tall and proud in the doorway. He’d recognize that ugly mug from the screenshot Kaiba showed him and Yugi anywhere. Seth Fargough. Or was it Set? Or was it Setesh now?

No really. Jounouchi really didn’t know.

“Lower your weapons and kneel before your god,” Seth commanded in the same warped voice Kaiba used.

“Go to hell, fuckboy,” Jounouchi sneered.

Seth’s -Setesh's?- eyes flashed gold with fury. Okay. Well if Jounouchi hadn’t been sure if this was Seth-Setesh-person before, he certainly did now. Subtlety was obviously not something this guy did well.

A low chuckle from behind raising the hackles on Jounouchi’s neck. The dull thump of a body collapsing to the floor made him want to look back to be sure it wasn’t Kaiba. But that would mean taking his eyes off of Seth and something told him that would be the last conscious thing he ever did.

“Finally,” Kaiba’s warped voice purred, “you bother to show yourself.”

Because Jounouchi kept his eyes on Seth-Setesh, he didn’t miss the outright shock on the cult leader’s face when Kaiba stepped out from behind him.

Rich boy took one look at Seth-Setesh and snorted. “Though I see why you hid. This new face is just as ugly and decrepit as the last one I saw you wear.”

What was that supposed to mean? Besides being a rather nasty burn.

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Seth straightened his shoulders and gave them his best disdainful glare. It was nothing compared to Kaiba’s trademark glare, but points to the guy for trying.

“You always did have a sharp tongue, Nephthys,” Seth-Setesh hissed.

It was subtle, but Jounouchi caught the tiniest hint of a flinch from Kaiba. Seth-Setesh’s brown eyes shifted to Jounouchi, raking up and down his form with open derision. Huh. So _that’s_ where Kaiba picked that up.

“I see your obsession with picking up strays hasn’t changed,” the cult leader said. “Is this your latest toy?”

Kaiba hummed. “This ‘toy’,” he emphasized the word with amusement, “just took down several of your pet disciples with ease.” Ego boost, check. “I’d say that makes him more than a toy. One would almost say,” -what was Kaiba’s hand doing on his shoulder?- “he was a First Prime.”

What was a that?

“He is hardly a Jaffa,” Seth-Setesh said, striding across the room until he stood mere feet from the muzzle of Jounouchi’s forcefully borrowed gun.

“Coming from someone who doesn’t even have a sarcophagus to maintain a host,” Kaiba said, scornfully, “that doesn’t mean much.”

Okay, Kaiba’s creepy hand was gone. Whew. That was weird. But it had apparently meant something to Seth-Setesh. Jounouchi could practically _feel_ the animosity in the cult leader’s gaze, glowing eyes or no glowing eyes.

“You come into _my_ house,” Seth-Setesh growled.

He couldn’t help it. Jounouchi snorted, failing to fight down the smirk tugging at his lips. Seth-Setesh’s eyes flashed furiously.

“Insolence,” he snarled.

“He’s acting perfectly fine to me,” Kaiba said. He rested a hand on top of Jounouchi’s gun and firmly pressed it down slightly. “I’ve come to negotiate a truce. I have something you want. You have something I want.”

“And what could you possibly offer me that I do not already have?” the cult leader said, gesturing to the room full of his armed followers.

Blue eyes glanced at the wall on Jounouchi’s left significantly. “A less gaudy throne, for one,” he said.

Throne? Curious, Jounouchi actually looked at the thing he’d dismissed earlier in favor of taking down some idiots, and gagged. Kaiba was right. The giant gold chair was bad enough. The centerpiece was the backrest. It looked like solid gold inlaid with enormous jewels that couldn’t possibly be real in the gaudiest display of cheap, Dollar Store extravagance he’d ever seen. Bar none. The chair didn’t even look comfortable.

“A sarcophagus as well,” Kaiba added, jerking Jounouchi’s attention back to the situation at hand. “Judging by your host’s appearance, I’d say you need it. Gray hairs do not become you.”

Seth-Setesh -man, Jounouchi really needed to get the right name in his head ‘cause this was getting annoying- breathed out slowly through his nose. “And what do you want from me?” he asked.

Kaiba’s eyes flashed. “Your followers.”

Huh?

“While you were busy doing nothing but creating small, pointless cults that only last a few years at most,” -ooh, someone call the burn ward- “I’ve been busy building an army.” Uh. “However much I find amusement on this planet,” Kaiba continued, “I have other plans to complete. One of which being the return of a certain,” he smirked, _“personal item_ of Heru’ur’s. He left in a hurry and failed to reclaim it.” Blue eyes hooded dangerously. “I mean to return it to him.”

For a moment, Jounouchi thought Seth-Setesh would refuse. Then the man chuckled. “And how do you plan to get it to him?” he demanded. “You have no ship. You’re trapped here as much as I am.”

“On the contrary,” Kaiba countered easily. “I may not have a ship. But you and I both know a ship isn’t the only way to travel.”

Seth-Setesh’s grin vanished as he studied Kaiba’s face for any hint of dishonesty. “I see,” he murmured, considering the offer. “And once we step through the Chappa’ai?”

The chapstick-what-now?

“A ceasefire,” Kaiba replied readily. “Long enough to go our separate ways. After that...” He shrugged. “I helped kill you once. I wouldn’t mind doing so again.”

“Watch your words, Nephthys,” Seth-Setesh warned. “You remember where they landed you last time we met. I doubt you want a repeat of that.”

Blue eyes flashed gold and even though Jounouchi knew he’d missed something important, again, there was no way he missed the threat in the creepy cult leader’s words. There was just something off about this whole situation. It felt like Jounouchi was a spectator in a private argument between exes. Also, he did _not_ like the way Creep Leader was eyeing Kaiba. It rubbed Jounouchi in all sorts of wrong ways.

Finally, Creep Leader waved a hand and his disciples lowered their weapons. “Very well then. We have an agreement.”

Jounouchi stepped off the dude on the floor but kept the gun.

“Forgive the rude welcome,” Creep Leader said, his voice dripping with false sweetness. “Consider yourselves honored guests. I will have one of my disciples show you to your rooms.” He leered at Kaiba. “You will be staying the night.”

Kaiba met the leer with one of his best smirks. “Naturally. But we only need one room.”

“But surely-”

 _“One_ room.”

Creep Leader’s attitude cooled, and he eyed Jounouchi with disgust. “I see.”

Yeah. Jounouchi was going to get to the bottom of this whole whatever-it-was he was missing. He hated being kept out of the loop like this.

“Then perhaps we can speak more of this later,” Creep offered.

“Perhaps,” Kaiba agreed.

“Alone.”

Blue eyes narrowed.

“In the meantime,” Creep said, gesturing to someone behind them, “my disciple will take you to your rooms.”

Kaiba obviously had more to say, but kept silent. There was a story here and Jounouchi wanted to know the whole dang thing. All the gory details. He was in the middle of plotting out a way to get Kaiba to talk when he saw Creepy Seth-Setesh’s disciple-guide-person.

Somehow, he kept himself in control. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen that glazed look in his friend’s face. Unfortunately, it probably wouldn’t be the last either. It still killed him inside every time he saw it, though.

“This way please,” Honda Hiroto said in accented English, bowing respectfully at the waist and gesturing for them to follow as if he was just some slave.

Creepy Leader Seth-Setesh would pay for doing this to a friend of Jounouchi’s.

* * *

ATF. Of all the government and military organizations his team had dealt with, both on and off-world, The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives was new. It was kind of nice to deal with something new. Especially when he could out-clearance someone. That was always satisfying.

Colonel Jack O’Neill sat on the edge of the foldable table with his team staring at the topographic map of the cult complex. Gotta hand it to Special Agent James Hamner’s team; they certainly knew how to get their hands on good maps. They must have used a drone equipped with LiDAR to get something this detailed.

“So if there is this,” he gestured vaguely, “back door into this place, then should we expect it to be heavily guarded?”

“Uh, no, not necessarily,” Daniel said, fiddling with his floppy hat. “It’s possible Seth’s people don’t even know it’s there.”

“Dr. Jackson is correct,” Teal’c said, tilting his dark head in respectful acknowledgement. “Apophis often kept the locations and routes of his escape tunnels secret except for his closest advisors, myself, and his personal guard. Many such tunnels often had multiple pathways leading nowhere as a means to throw off any potential pursuers.”

“That certainly narrows it down then.”

O’Neill looked over his shoulder at his second in command. “Carter?”

The captain met her superior’s gaze and continued. “Well, if Daniel’s right and Seth hasn’t changed his MO since ancient times-”

“And we all know one thing the Goa’uld are not known for is changing,” her father, General Jacob Carter, said with a wry grin.

“-then we can assume that the real escape route will be outside the fence.” She nodded to the map pinned on the bulletin board. “We’ll have to search the perimeter for an opening of some kind.”

O’Neill winced and shook his head, mentally cataloguing the acreage they would have to search. “That’s a lot of land to cover,” he muttered. “With the ATF breathing down our necks, we need to get this over with quick.”

Jacob moved around the table the colonel leaned against and brushed his fingers over the shaded area outside the fence. “Well, I suggest we start with the tree cover here,” he said. “If Seth has any brains, he wouldn’t put the exit to his only getaway out in the open where anyone could see it.”

“Considering the number of times his cults have ended in mass suicides,” Daniel said grimly, “he’ll probably try to use the confusion as a distraction.”

“With the number of people the ATF has on standby here, that won’t be easy,” Jacob said thoughtfully. “But, then again, I don’t hear any helicopters. Sam?”

Carter shook her head. “I didn’t see any drones either,” she said. “They must have gotten that map from another source.”

“An inside source, perhaps?” O’Neill offered hopefully.

“Doubtful,” Daniel said, worrying his lip with his teeth.

“May I make a suggestion, O’Neill?”

The group turned to the tall, dark skinned warrior with interest. The colonel nodded. “Shoot.”

The Jaffa glanced significantly at the currently closed tent flap, giving them privacy from the ATF officers. “If we are indeed short on time, then perhaps we should make use of the resources available.”

Teal’c had a point. The ATF had the map, the manpower, and the gear his team sorely needed. They would just have to make sure someone stayed behind when they infiltrated the compound to be sure a certain Special Agent didn’t get any ideas. The last thing they needed here was a body count. They were already toeing the line by taking over an investigation that was legally out of their jurisdiction. Thank god General Hammond had the president’s ear.

“Good idea,” he said. “Carter,” the blonde woman straightened expectantly, “stay here and start working on a way to keep us connected and shocked. I’d rather not be zat-ed unless I have to be.”

An amused smile twitched her lips despite the serious situation. “Yes sir.”

“General,” O’Neill said, turning to his commanding officer, “why don’t you go have a little talk with Very Special Agent Hamner. See if you can convince him to lend us some ground support.”

”Sure thing,” Jacob said easily.

“Daniel.” The brunette archaeologist jerked his attention from the map to the colonel, pausing to adjust his glasses. “I want you to stay here with the captain,” O’Neill said. “You know more about this Seth than we do. Jacob can join you two when he’s finished schmoozing our ever-so-eager hosts and give you some more information of this nishi’ta stuff.”

The general snorted in amusement. “Nish’ta,” he corrected.

“Whatever. Teal’c?” the Jaffa lifted an eyebrow. “You’re with me.” He stood and put his hat on. “Let’s go hunting.”

* * *

If he didn’t know better, Yami would have been impressed. The upkeep of the compound was immaculate and the people were happy and content. The ones who weren’t stalking through the halls and grounds with machine guns, that is. He did notice how the armed cultists appeared to be exclusively men while most of the labor and housework was done by the women and younger members like Yugi was pretending to be. It was strange being surrounded by danger but knowing the threat was directed outward, not inward. As long as Yami and Yugi kept their heads low and didn’t do anything to draw attention, they should be fine.

Also, some of the gunmen wore a truly odd weapon strapped to leather holsters at their waists. It was gray in color with curved geometric detailing and shaped like a capital ‘N’. From what Yami could see through Yugi’s eyes, the device was a handheld gun-like weapon of some kind. Although he couldn’t see anywhere for the wielder to load the bullets.

It was disturbing to see so many people in a juxtaposition of moods. The stern, visible yet muted aggression of the guards and the peaceful, easy-going fluidity of the other members was an emotional merry-go-round. It all seemed so…

 _:False,:_ Yugi murmured, helping their cult companion prepare breakfast for their ‘god.’ _:It’s not real. It’s like when Shadi had Anzu under his power. She seemed fine, but she felt empty. Not there.:_

 _:That’s a good way of putting it,:_ Yami agreed. _:It isn’t natural.:_

Materializing as a ghostly reflection of his partner’s physical form, Yami stepped away from Yugi and observed the room they were currently in. It had white walls with naked wood accents and windows that let in the cloudy morning light. They had been doing minor chores around the compound for the past hour or so, using the opportunity to look for their friend. If anyone questioned them about what they were doing, all it took was one of Yugi’s trademark shy smiles and a gesture indicating they were mute and they were left alone.

Which led to another revelation neither Yugi nor Yami had thought of when Yugi thought up the mute idea. It was like once the cultists found out Yugi was mute, they treated him with kindness and like the patient ear of a confidant. The number of juicy stories they’d been subjected to about who Seth’s current favorite was, who had displeased their benevolent leader, and who had earned a higher status or lost their status within the cult was ear-bleedingly long.

Luckily, the new subject of gossip was of the sudden arrival of another god and something called a First Prime. Together, the two of them had overwhelmed several of Seth’s guard. A fact their oh-so-benevolent god was _most displeased_ about. However, the focus of the cultists conversations dwelled not on the shamed guards, but on the new god. Apparently she, or he depending on who was talking, was someone the great and glorious Seth was _most pleased_ to see again.

Yami knew his partner hoped the new arrivals were Kaiba and Joey, but they wouldn’t know for sure unless they saw them. Something which was proving to be nigh on impossible. Seth may be pleased to see this new false god, but he certainly didn’t trust him or her if the guards by the guests’ doors were anything to go by.

On the bright side, Yugi spotted Honda a little while ago. Their friend was currently working as a messenger between the cultists and their leader which meant he wasn’t easy to pin down to one location. It also meant no one would miss him if Honda were to… disappear for a hour or two.

Finding Kaiba and Jounouchi though might not be as easy. Yami hadn’t heard anything about their friends since they caused the distraction that got them in here undetected. He could only hope they got out or were in a safe place for the time being. They already needed to save one person. Saving three would be much more difficult.

This was going to be a long day indeed.


	6. Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jounouchi gets some answers but has more questions while Seto is faced with an ultimatum he isn't ready to face and decides to take door number 3 instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Thus the two groups meet. As usual, I will edit this tomorrow when I'm actually awake enough to do so.

Seto was fuming. He knew Setesh would make an ass of himself, but he’d forgotten how _much_ of an ass the snake could be. He felt like he’d just faced off with Kaiba Gozaburo once more and not come out on top. All because of that infernal name.

Nephthys.

It didn’t used to bother him so much. The annoyance had grown as the Egyptian mythology changed. Seto could see Setesh’s handiwork in the mythology from the other side of the galaxy. What the traitorous Goa’uld hadn’t secured in life, he managed to keep in myth. Sister-wife. Disgusting. In so many ways.

Thousands of years ago, incest had hardly been much of an issue. Pharaohs married siblings and close cousins frequently to maintain bloodlines and political power, particularly since the royal line was linked to the females not the males. Incest may not have been the best solution for the people involved, but as long as a viable heir was produced and the royal line secured, all was considered well.

The Goa’uld embraced this philosophy whole-heartedly. After all, there were only so many breeding Goa’uld queens in existence and those few tended to be hesitant about birthing new queens. Birthing common drones was so much easier and ever so useful. The more underlings to cater to the queen’s needs and wants, the more Jaffa could be created and the more underlords could be gathered.

Birthing a new queen was a dangerous game. Unless the new queen was immediately separated from their mother, the outcome would often be bloody. Besides, a new queen meant a new potential enemy to deal with. If the new queen chose to breed only, they could be more easily controlled and manipulated. A Goa’uld without a host was surprisingly pliable.

However, should the Goa’uld queen choose to take a host and continue to breed much like Ra’s infamous queen Hathor had done, they became a serious threat. They could actively make decisions, gather power, create and destroy alliances, and provide a steady flow of symbiotes for their Jaffa armies.

As the Supreme System Lord, Ra had two queens: Hathor and Egeria. Two queens, double the power. None of the Goa’uld could match Ra’s armies in sheer numbers alone with two queens constantly at his beck and call. Egeria may not have been as politically active or influential as Hathor, as far as Seto could remember, but the two queens were both forces to be reckoned with.

Seto did not have such power but, for the moment, he had to act as if he did. As long as Setesh thought this temporary ceasefire was beneficial, Seto had some wiggle room. That didn’t mean Seto was going to let his guard down for one second. Setesh was a slimy bastard and Seto refused to be outwitted by such a lowlife.

Now if only the mutt would stop pacing like a caged cat. “You are trying my patience,” Seto said, sipping his steaming mug of coffee and staring out the window. “Either stop moving or I will make you stop.”

He watched as the blonde’s reflection in the window shot him a heated glare before raking fingers through the already messy hair.

“Look, man,” Jounouchi said, “you have your way of dealing with stress, and I have mine. You sit and brood, I pace and fiddle. Get over it.”

“Not as long as we have to share a room, I won’t,” Seto countered.

“And who was the one who insisted we share a room?”

Seto glanced at Jounouchi’s frustrated expression, his eyebrow sketching a perfect arch. “Would you prefer I let you be alone so Setesh could brainwash you as easily as he did motorcycle boy?” he asked. The mutt paled considerably at the suggestion and Seto set his mug down on the window sill. “I may not be able to stand your presence, but that doesn’t mean I’m heartless enough to leave you to someone as despicable as Setesh. I’d rather just throw you to the wolves and watch the show.”

Bright brown eyes dulled into a flat glare. “Gee, thanks. I feel so loved.”

Seto snorted.

Jounouchi grimaced and rubbed his forehead, obviously still stressing. At least he wasn’t pacing anymore so that was an improvement.

“Does this whole thing not bother you?” the mutt finally said in exasperation. “Like, at all?”

“It does,” Seto admitted after a moment. “But I’ve had enough time to come to terms with the way Setesh works to not allow myself to be surprised by him anymore.”

“Yeah, well some of us don’t have your background, moneybags,” Jounouchi grumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

After a few minutes of heavy silence, Jounouchi approached the window and leaned back against the wall across from Seto’s seated form. “Do you think Honda will remember this?” he asked softly. “Being brainwashed, I mean.”

Seto considered Yugi’s friend for a moment before sighing. “I doubt it,” he said finally. “If he does, it’ll be fuzzy at best. Like trying to remember a dream.”

The blonde nodded in relief. “Good.” He shook his head. “I never wanted something like this to happen again,” he said. “You think Yug’ got put under too?”

“I highly doubt it,” Seto said, returning his gaze to the cloud covered sky outside. “If he was caught, Setesh would have the Puzzle and we would _all_ know it.”

“Huh. Good point.” Jounouchi tapped his foot anxiously. “So when do you think Mister Creepy Face will come back?” he said, glancing at the door. “He did say he wanted to talk to you. Alone.”

Seto sighed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs comfortably. “Soon. He prefers to make his guests wait. It’s a power play.”

The infernal foot tapping continued. “Wanna explain the whole Nephthys thing now or…?” Jounouchi shrugged dramatically.

He was never going to catch a break, was he? Taking a long sip of his coffee, Seto thumped the mug back on the window sill and stared at Jounouchi in mounting annoyance. “Nephthys was a pseudonym I used once,” he said. “It’s not and never was my real name.” He tried not to roll his eyes and mostly succeeded. “Unfortunately, my actions while using that name left a mark.”

Jounouchi lifted both eyebrows, obviously trying to only lift one and failing. “And that ties in to Setesh… how exactly?”

“I worked for him.”

The mutt stared at him. “You worked for him,” he repeated in a flat tone.

“Times were different then,” Seto said, dismissing the subject. “I didn’t have the power and influence I have today. I was an underlord with little power to call my own. If anyone knew what I was, I’d have been killed without question.” He cocked his head thoughtfully, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at his lips. “I started fixing that problem as soon as I could.”

Jounouchi leaned back, pressing his back to the wall and staring at nothing as he thought on Seto’s words. “So you were Setesh’s subordinate, basically.”

“Basically.”

Jounouchi snorted, his shoulders bouncing with the effort to bite back his amusement. “I am never going to forget that,” he said, grinning. “The great Seto Kaiba, a subordinate for a cult leader. Oh, excuse me,” he corrected himself quickly. “An _alien_ cult leader.”

Seto visibly dismissed the brat by looking back out the window. He did make a point to not-so-accidentally kick the mutt’s kneecap when he uncrossed his legs and shifted to a more comfortable position.

“So this whole alien thing-”

“Ra have mercy,” Seto groaned, letting his head fall back onto the chair and shutting his eyes. “Do you ever shut up for more than a few seconds?”

“Sometimes,” Jounouchi said easily. “I’m usually asleep though.”

This time Seto did kick the mutt deliberately.

“You gonna explain the alien thing to me then?” Jounouchi said, sounding for all the world like he was talking about the weather. “Or do I need to keep talking about shit in order to annoy you into talking?”

Seto rubbed his temples to stave off a growing headache.

“I could always ask Setesh.”

“Fine!” Seto snapped. He glared at the mutt who had the audacity to grin victoriously.

“Score 1 for Joey, and a big, fat zero for Kaiba!” the mutt crowed, punching a fist into the air.

“That hardly sounds like an accurate count,” Seto growled.

“Bite me.”

Disgusting.

“Look, I’m not asking for all the gory details,” Jounouchi said, his shit-eating grin still on his face. “I’m just asking for enough so I understand what’s going on around here. Like this First Prime thing. What the hell’s that? And I know enough about Egyptian stuff to know what a sarcophagus is, but not why a living person would need it. And what the hell is a chapstick-whatchamucallit?”

Obelisk, grant him patience. Seto needed the mutt alive. No matter how badly he wanted to strangle that pale neck.

“The Chappa’ai,” Seto said, emphasizing the correct pronunciation, “is a piece of technology that allows people to travel from one world to another without the use of space ships. I’d go into the details of the science behind wormholes and interstellar travel, but I doubt your pea brain would be able to handle it without suffering a fatal meltdown.”

“You’re a piece of shit, Kaiba,” Jounouchi snarled. He blinked. “Wait, wormholes? What, you mean like that TV show _Farscape_ type thing?”

“Yes and no,” Seto said, reaching for his coffee. He needed the caffeine. “Natural wormholes like the one in that show are rare, but the instability and randomness of location regarding entrance and exit was accurate.” He studied the mutt’s brown eyes to be sure he had Jounouchi’s full attention. “The Chappa’ai is a ring-shaped device that creates a stable wormhole between itself and another identical device somewhere else, be it on another planet, a moon, or even a space ship. As long as the correct address is entered into the dialing device and the answering Chappa’ai isn’t currently active, a wormhole will open.”

“So it’s basically a supped up telephone that people can go through,” Jounouchi said.

Why did Seto even try. “In a very simplified way, yes,” he said.

Jounouchi nodded, pursing his lips. “Okay. So what does ‘Chapta-aye’ mean, oh wise one?” he said, using sarcastic finger quotes.

“Chappa’ai,” Seto growled, annoyed with the way Jounouchi was deliberately mispronouncing the word. Brown eyes danced with glee and Seto rubbed his forehead. “Roughly translated, it means Stargate.”

“Then why didn’t you just call it that?” Jounouchi asked. “Stargate. Now that I can pronounce.”

He was fuming. He did not need to be this angry over a word. The mutt was riling him up. He was above this.

“Probably because English isn’t my first language,” Seto snapped.

“And whatever language this ‘Chappa’ey,” Seto twitched, “comes from is?”

“Yes!”

“Oh.” Jounouchi looked genuinely surprised. “Sorry. Didn’t know.” He hesitated. “What language is that anyway?”

“None of your business.”

The spark returned to the puppy dog’s eyes. Luckily, Seto didn’t have to endure another pathetic attempt at an insult. Just another question. He wasn’t sure if that was worse or not.

“What about a First Prime?” Jounouchi asked. “Sounds important.”

“It’s the title given to the Jaffa in charge of the Goa’uld’s armies,” Seto explained. “Think of it as the equivalent of a Prime Minister to the Goa’uld’s King.”

“So I’m important,” Jounouchi said with a sly smirk.

Seto was not going to dignify that with an answer.

“Okay, be that way,” the blonde said, in a much better mood. “And the sarcophagus?”

Please be the last question. “Exactly what it sounds like,” Seto said. “Except it’s used to heal people, not bury them.”

“And this Setesh guy doesn’t have one.”

“No.”

“How do you know?” Jounouchi asked, his brown eyes dark with confusion.

“Other than the fact he all but admitted it?” Seto said. He shrugged. “He has a different host. That typically only happens if the previous host died. If Setesh had a sarcophagus, then he could have healed his last host. He didn’t, therefore he doesn’t have one.”

Jounouchi was silent, gazing at Seto with an expression that was unexpectedly difficult to read. Frowning, Seto met the blonde’s brown eyes with his own blue. “What?” he demanded.

The blonde licked his lips, clearly trying to decide how to put what he wanted to say to words. After two false starts, Jounouchi managed to whisper, “Host?”

Ah. That wasn’t going to be easy to explain and Seto wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to talk about that yet. It was one thing to talk about technology and culture and languages. It was another to talk about forcefully taking over an independent life form and essentially wearing them like a costume.

Thankfully, a rush of activity in the hall beyond the door drew their attention, saving him from a very disconcerting conversation. The doorknob turned and Honda stepped through the door, a smile plastered on his face beneath his blank gaze. Seto hated it.

“Our god Seth requests your presence,” the young man said.

Seto and Jounouchi shared a look before Seto reluctantly got to his feet and the mutt took up a position to his left.

“Forgive me,” Honda said, his smile sickly sweet, “but Seth made it clear only Nephthys was welcome to join him. I’m afraid your First Prime must stay behind.”

Naturally. “Then tell your god I decline his request,” Seto said allowing his true voice to warp his host’s as he turned to sit back down.

“I’m afraid I must insist,” Honda said, sounding apologetic.

Two armed men stepped into the room behind Yugi’s brainwashed friend. Seto didn’t miss the subtle tensing of Jounouchi’s muscles, no doubt anticipating a fight. As much as Seto would love to sic the dog on the bastard cultists, he was at a disadvantage. They were outnumbered and outgunned. For the first time since he’d left his hotel room, Seto cursed himself for leaving his Millennium Rod locked in the hotel safe. He missed the familiar weight of the golden Item and the comforting power and control it gave his Shadows. The hidden knife in the handle wasn’t bad either.

Annoyed, his eyes flashed. Honda seemed wholly unaffected. Damn the brat.

“Wheeler,” he commanded, “if you don’t hear from me in an hour, feel free to do what you need to.”

Jounouchi smirked and popped his knuckles while eyeing the cultist enforcers. “Sure thing, Set. I’ll start with you, Magic Mike,” he taunted the larger of the two armed cultists.  

The gunmen tightened their grip on their weapons and glared. Honda merely blinked. “That won’t be necessary,” he said, waving his fellow ‘disciples’ back.

“Cool. Then you’ll be my guide?” Jounouchi asked. Without waiting for an answer, the mutt waltzed up to his brainwashed friend and hooked an arm around a befuddled Honda’s neck. “Alright! This could be fun.”

“Uh,” Honda gasped, seeming thoroughly confused, “actually I was ordered to-”

“Nope, you’re a-comin’ with me,” Jounouchi said, steamrolling over his friend’s words. “I’m sure these two fine, _strapping_ idiots- _I mean_ protectors,” he corrected hastily with an expression that made it clear he did mean ‘idiots’, “can take Set to meet your precious god. Consider it an honor guard or some bullshit like that.”

“W-well-”

“Check you later, Set,” Jounouchi said, winking at tossing a lazy, two-fingered salute at Seto before sweeping out of the room. “Have fun with Setesh.”

Seto would kill him. Later. After they got out of this wretched situation.

“If you’ll come with me, my lord Nephthys,” the tallest guard Jounouchi called Magic Mike said.

Nephthys. He _really_ hated that name.

Seto eyed the cultist with open disdain. “You will refer to me as Set,” he said in cold, clipped tones that promised pain should his command not be heeded.

Drawing a deep, calming breath, he sent up a silent prayer to Ra for Jounouchi and Yugi’s success at getting motorcycle boy out of here. Only then did he exit the room with one cultist in front and one behind. No chance of him attempting to divert their course. Setesh didn’t trust him. Wise but annoying. The snake would pay for this insult.

The moment Seto stepped into the makeshift throne room, his temper flared. “Your definition of ‘alone’ and mine seem to differ, Setesh,” he snarled, blue eyes flashing gold.

The Goa’uld merely smiled passively and swept his arm over the room to his disciples. “They will not speak of our meeting if I order them not to. Besides,” he added, running his fingers through the hair of one of his besotted female disciples kneeling by his feet, “I thought you would prefer the security of other eyes to prevent any potential… misunderstandings.”

Seto _hated_ him.

“Come,” Setesh said, gesturing to the empty place to his left. “Join me.”

“Drop dead.”

The gunmen raised their weapons before being waved off by their leader. “I see your scathing tongue hasn’t lost its edge,” Setesh said, leaning back comfortably in his throne. “At least stand where I can see you.”

“Why don’t you come to me?” Seto countered.

Setesh laughed. “You were never in a position to command me, Nephthys,” the Goa’uld said. “Any power you may have amassed during Ra’s absence is nothing compared to what you know I could wield if I so wished.”

“Could,” Seto said simply. “Yet you don’t.”

“Because I choose not to. Come.”

The gleam in Setesh’s brown eyes when they settled on him and he waved Seto over once more made it clear disobedience would not be tolerated. Swallowing his pride, Seto strode across the floor to stand just out of Setesh’s reach. Satisfied for the time being, the false god smiled and relaxed in his gaudy chair.

“I must admit, I did not expect to ever see you again,” he said, studying Seto closely.

“Nor I you. Imagine my surprise when I find the snake I watched be crushed to death alive and well and leading a cult,” Seto said, meeting the Goa’uld’s gaze evenly. “How far you have fallen.”

“I warned you once, Nephthys,” Setesh said, eyes glowing with banked fury. “Watch your words.”

Seto glared. “You harm me, our deal is moot. I’ve hidden both the Chappa’ai and the sarcophagus.” He smirked. “You’ll never find them without my help.”

Mostly because one was still buried somewhere in the sands of Egypt and the other was destroyed, but technicalities.

“Perhaps not,” Setesh agreed easily. “But I have survived the years without either and have enjoyed the worship and adoration of mankind. What have you to show for the years past?” He sniffed. “An army.” He scoffed. “Do you think me a fool, Nephthys?”

“Stop calling me that,” Seto hissed.

“You never did appreciate the gift I gave you,” Setesh continued, heedless of Seto’s words. “I trained you to be the best. To be the most vicious and cunning of my underlords.”

“A mistake that ended with your host crushed beneath temple rubble and struggling to find a new host every four hundred years,” Seto interrupted coldly. “I outwitted you, Setesh. I’m better than you. I won. You lost.”

“And yet I am the one on the throne and you are the one who came to me.”

He wouldn’t have had to if Yugi and Jounouchi hadn’t let Honda out of their sight. Honestly, after everything the geek squad had been through, you’d think they would have learned by now. Reality is a cruel mistress.

Setesh tapped his fingers on the golden armrest with a satisfied expression on his face that made Seto sick to his stomach. “Lucky for you,” the cult leader said, “I am a benevolent god-”

Benevolent, the mutt’s ass.

“-and I am willing to overlook your past transgressions,” Setesh continued. “On one condition.”

“I will never submit myself to a lowlife like you,” Seto said, holding himself tall and proud. “I would rather die.”

“That can be arranged.”

The sound of guns cocking and aiming at him from all sides echoed in the makeshifted throne room. Seto held the false god’s gaze, and laughed.

“Please,” he said, a wild gleam in his eyes. “If you wanted me dead, you would have killed me the moment you laid eyes on me. You’re predictable, Setesh. You taught me well.”

He took one dangerous step closer to the snake, vaguely aware of the female disciples skittering away from him.

“You won’t kill me,” he said. “You need me. You want what I won’t give you. It must _burn_ you to know I can resist you and get away with it,” he purred, taking another step. “If I was still susceptible to your nish’ta, you would have dosed me already and taken what you want. But I’m immune now, so you have no choice but to rely on your words. I outwitted Heru’ur.” He stopped a mere inch from Setesh’s knees. “You are nothing in comparison.”

The golden glow of Setesh’s fury only made Seto’s heart race with adrenaline and vicious pride. He’d won. Again.

“You think so?”

Setesh’s words were soft, but they made Seto’s heart tremble with remembered fear.

“You forget, Nephthys,” the false god purred, standing from his throne and towering a full head above Seto. Damn that raised dais. “You do not need a host to give me what I want.”

He felt the blood drain from his face, pooling in his legs making them tingle with the overwhelming desire to _flee._ Setesh wouldn’t  _dare!_ Even if he did, there was no way the snake had the equipment needed for a forced extraction. There was no way.

There _couldn’t_ be.

Gold encased fingers brushed Seto’s cold cheek in a mockery of tenderness. “You have learned well, my student,” Setesh murmured just loud enough for Seto to hear. “But I will always be your better.”

He couldn’t breathe.

“You have a choice to make, Nephthys.” Setesh said, leaning back just far enough for Seto to see his face. “Submit yourself to my service willingly and keep the host you obviously have an unhealthy attachment to, or refuse and lose your host, your freedom, and your identity. Choose wisely.”

He should never have come here. Pharaoh reborn or not. Seto should _never_ have come here. He had a life. He had Mokuba. He had KaibaCorp. He had Duel Monsters. He had the Millennium Rod. He had everything he could ever dream of.

He should never have come.

But Yugi asked.

Damn his vows. Damn them to Ammit’s gullet. Seto would _not_ submit. Not now, not ever. He outsmarted Heru’ur. He would outsmart Setesh. He would find a way out of this. He would. If it was the last thing he ever did. He would rather die than be used as Setesh’s-

The distinct sound of the transport Rings activating startled him from his thoughts. Whirling around, he was met by three unfamiliar faces. But he didn’t have to know who they were to recognize the stance, weaponry, and uniforms of military officers. Except for that brunette with the floppy, green hat. The chances of him being military were nigh on zero.

The woman closest to Seto’s position wore her blonde hair boyishly short and held her P-90 aimed at the nearest armed cultist. There were no obvious badges or indicators of which branch of the armed forces she and her team belonged to, but that wasn’t what was important.

They’d found Setesh’s escape tunnel. And instead of staring at the Ring technology with the same awe Jounouchi had, they acted as if it was normal and locked onto the hostile cultists instead. Military and familiar with advanced technology.

“I hate it when this happens,” the older man in the trio bemoaned.

The sarcasm dripping from his voice made even Seto impressed. Judging by the way the woman deferred to his judgement, only lowering her weapon when he did, this must be her commanding officer.

“Welcome,” Setesh said, his eye flashing gold in a display of power.

None of them reacted. They’d seen it before. That meant they’d dealt with the Goa’uld before. But how… The Chappa’ai was buried, lost, and the Pharaoh drove the Goa’uld from the Earth. Until yesterday, Seto had believed he was the only one left on this planet.

He struggled to gather his shattered thoughts and piece together the faintest hints of a plan to get out of this insanity as the three military officers were disarmed and forced to their knees in front of Setesh. They spared a few curious glances at him, but didn’t linger.

“Who are you?” Setesh demanded, removing his metal covered fingers from Seto’s pale face.

“Well I’m Larry,” the commanding officer said without fear. “This is Moe,” he looked at the blonde woman, “and, of course, everyone’s favorite,” he nodded to the brunette man, “Curly.”

No fear. Just calm acceptance and sarcasm. Seto approved. Naturally, Setesh did not.

“Say goodbye to your impure military past,” Setesh said. “We are always eager to welcome new disciples who wish to know the bliss that only Seth can bestow.”

Dramatic asshole. Seto watched with detached interest as Setesh raised his hand and activate his golden kara kesh. The two repurposed Jaffa helmets mounted on poles on either side of Setesh’s throne activated, dripping a cloud of green gas from their noses. The tiny organisms within the green gas swirled around the trio who seemed entirely unphased by the encounter.

“I swear,” the commanding officer muttered just loud enough for Seto to hear, “if I wake up and I’m singin’ soprano…”

Military, familiar with advanced technology, a history with the Goa’uld, and no strangers to infiltration and capture. Perhaps there was a way out of Setesh’s ultimatum, after all.


	7. Indirect Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jounouchi is great at drawing things out, Yugi is hopeful, Seto is not going to like this, and Jacob/Selmak and Teal'c _definitely_ don't like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** You know the drill. Too tired to edit tonight so I'll edit tomorrow.
> 
>  **Pronunciations and Definitions:**  
>  Zat'nik'katel \- zat-NICK-kah-tell ; a handheld weapon of Goa'uld design that looks like a cobra rearing to strike. One blast stuns causing pain that often results in the victims losing consciousness. Two blasts in quick succession result in death. Three shots in quick succession result in disintegration.  
> Onak sha sree \- a greeting between strangers  
> Rel-tor-key \- Good luck  
> Tau'ri \- Tah-ree ; Earth, Humans, people from Earth

They found him. They actually _found_ Honda. Well, technically Jounouchi found him, but still! They had even managed to separate Honda from the other cultists. Apparently Jounouchi had all but dragged his brainwashed friend around the compound on an extended tour. Whenever Jounouchi asked for more details or insisted on seeing more of the building, Honda obeyed.

Despite how obviously uncomfortable Honda was with his guided tour and his constant efforts to make up an excuse to get away, Jounouchi’s requests were reluctantly obeyed. There seemed to be an underlying hint of respect and maybe even fear in the way Honda regarded Jounouchi. Yugi knew Honda respected his friend, but not like this. This bordered on the kind of fearful respect the employees at KaibaCorp regarded their CEO.

And it wasn’t just Honda who looked and treated Jounouchi that way. All of the disciples who interacted with Jounouchi seemed to automatically differ to him except in matters regarding direct orders from their ‘god’ Seth. Yugi shook his head in wonderment. Whatever cover story Jounouchi was using seemed to be working wonders.

Yugi had been carrying a folded pile of fresh, clean laundry in his arms when he heard his best friend’s voice. He’d quickly looked around and ducked into the nearest doorway and waited. He used the footsteps and Jounouchi’s voice to determine how close they were before deliberately stepping out into the hallway.

He promptly found himself smooshed into Honda’s chest with a mouthful of the off-white cult uniform. Stumbling back in false surprise, he caught Honda’s arm with his elbow, pretending to lose his balance and drop his armful of clothing. Unseen by anyone but Yugi, the spirit of the Puzzle was leaning against the wall beside himself with laughter.

Granted, watching Honda frantically apologize and help Yugi gather up the dropped laundry while simultaneously preventing Jounouchi from helping was amusing. Too bad the armed guards shadowing the two boys seemed to disagree. Yugi kept his mouth shut and just smiled sheepishly and began refolding the long tunics and dresses.

“I am so sorry,” Honda went on, folding a pair of pants and placing it back in Yugi’s open arms. “Please forgive the delay, First Prime.” His dark eyes flickered up to where Jounouchi stood watching. “This will not take long.”

 _:First Prime?:_ Yugi asked, surreptitiously glancing at both Yami and Jounouchi.

Jounouchi ignored the look and just waved away Honda’s apologies. “No sweat,” he said, tucking his other hand in his pocket. “Set’s probably still busy with Setesh anyway. We got a little more time.” Now he did look at Yugi. “Who’s the squirt?”

Yugi flushed bright red and bit his lip to keep his mouth shut. If he spoke now, he’d ruin is cover story. Still, he wasn’t _that_ short!

“One of our newest disciples,” Honda said, placing the last dress on top of the pile and getting to his feet. He dusted off his pants and held out a hand to help Yugi up, blushing when he realized Yugi’s hands were full. “I don’t know his name though.”

Jounouchi lifted his eyebrows and looked right at Yugi. “What’s your name, bro?” he asked.

Smiling, Yugi did his best to gesture to his mouth and shake his head. With his hands occupied, it was the best he could do. Hopefully, Jounouchi would catch on. Something dark flashed through the blonde boy’s eyes, hardening his gaze in a silent yet important question. Understanding, Yugi shrugged and shook his head. Just as quickly as it appeared, the shadow vanished from Jounouchi’s gaze.

“Huh,” the blonde said. “Must be deaf.”

Hey!

“Um, I believe he can hear us,” Honda said, glancing at Jounouchi in mild annoyance. “He just can’t speak.” He blinked in realization and turned back to Yugi in surprise. “Are you mute?” he asked.

Thank you! Yugi nodded and Honda’s demeanor softened.

“Oh, I see,” he said. “I’m sorry about walking into you. Are you alright?”

Yugi nodded cheerfully. Could be better, but Honda had been found and three of their party of four were now accounted for. That was good enough news to bring a genuine smile to Yugi’s face.

“Good,” Honda said, his shoulders relaxing in relief. “Will you be well enough to be of service to our god Seth this afternoon for the evening meal?”

Yugi nodded. Over Yugi’s dead body. Yami did not like that metaphor much, if the ruby eyed glare was anything to go by.

Honda’s face brightened noticeably. “Very good.” He turned to Jounouchi and the brightness faded significantly. “I think it would be best we returned to your quarters now,” he said, a fake smile plastered on his face that all but screamed for mercy.

Jounouchi shifted his weight to one hip and rubbed his chin dramatically in thought. “Hmm, I mean, I guess we’ve seen enough,” he said with a theatrical sigh. “Yo squirt.” He jerked his chin at Yugi. “Mind bringing me a coffee in a few minutes? I need the caffeine and if _I_ need it, then I _know_ Set needs it.”

Set? Who was that? Set? As in Seto?

Honda quickly stepped in waving his hands frantically. “I’m sure I can handle that for you,” he said. “I’ll just make a quick run to the kitchen after I take you back to the guest room.”

“No, no, you’re a busy guy.” His eyes twinkled and Yugi swallowed a giggle. “I would never ask a messenger to do such a thing. You should be off serving your god Seth.” He patted Honda on the shoulder in a patronizing manner before gripping it and pulling the hapless boy close. “So, just lead me back to my room and I’ll let you be on your way. Squirt,” he hollered over his shoulder, “I expect coffee. I’m asking, Set won’t. He’ll find you and demand it.”

Yeah, that definitely sounded like Seto.

 _:Odd choice of name, though,:_ Yami commented curiously.

 _:Not really,:_ Yugi thought back as he watched his friends go. _:He probably chose it because he thought we’d recognize it. It is basically his name.:_

Yami snorted. _:I suppose so. Kaiba never was one for the subtle when he had the choice to be flamboyant.:_

 _:And now we have an excuse to see them in person.:_ Yugi hurried to one of the new disciple’s rooms to drop off the laundry. _:Hopefully Joey will be able to stall Honda long enough for us to get there. Then we get out of this horrible place.:_

_:Agreed.:_

When Yugi nudged the bedroom door open, he was surprised to find it occupied by two women. He recognized the woman seated on the edge of the simple cot as the same disciple who found him by the laundry lines. She never did introduce herself. The other woman was a new face in the compound. Her short blonde hair seemed to shine in the cloudy sunlight spilling through the bedroom window as she slept soundly on the cot.

The disciple turned when she heard Yugi enter and smiled a greeting. “Thank you,” she said. “Just put them on the bed.”

Yugi nodded and placed the clean clothes on the sheets by the sleeping woman’s feet. He started to leave when he noticed Seth’s disciple reach over to gently shake the blonde woman awake. Wow. Her eyes were almost sky blue. They weren’t quite as vibrant as Kaiba’s, but they were certainly noticeable.

“How are you feeling?” the female disciple asked softly.

The blonde smiled. “Well. Fine.”

The disciple’s smile grew. “And do you feel well enough to be of service to your god Seth?” she asked.

“Yes,” the blonde said, starting to sit up. “Of course.”

Yugi shuddered at the sight and rushed from the room. He could not wait until they got out of this awful place. Everything was so clean and false and it grated on his nerves. He wanted to just shout at the top of his lungs that this Seth person was _not_ a god and that they were all being deceived. But the consequences of doing that outweighed his desire, so he kept his mouth shut. Maybe once they got out they could do something to save these people. But until then, they had to be safe and, he eyed an armed cultist standing guard outside the window, not get shot.

Huh. Maybe he should make one more trip to the laundry.

* * *

Seto stared at his empty mug of coffee accusingly. His nerves were raw and his mind was racing. They found motorcycle boy and the puppy made it a point to stay near him. All well and good. But did Yugi know? More importantly, now that they had Honda, how were they going to get out?

Ever since the military officers arrived, Seth had increased the armed guards on patrol outside and inside. Seto’s door now had two guards outside it instead of the one previous assigned there. That left the window.

His blue gaze skipped to the tall bushes a good five feet below the window ledge and considered the idea critically. Seto would survive the drop with little injury thanks to his increased healing. Jounouchi and Honda might if they hung from the ledge first then dropped the rest of the way. Yugi simply wouldn’t. Those bushes were thick but they weren’t strong enough to support the weight of a person, even someone Yugi’s size. Still, it was an option.

The next option was to find a way to shock the military officers out of their drugged haze and use them to get out. Unfortunately, that left him with the problem of them remembering his face and potentially recognizing him. Set or Nephthys could afford to be recognized. Kaiba Seto could not. He didn’t just represent himself anymore. He represented Mokuba, his bodyguard Roland, and the entirety of Kaiba Corporations. If word got out that he was involved with a cult, he would lose face and everything he worked for would be ruined overnight.

He had to play his cards carefully.

He didn’t immediately look over his shoulder when he heard the door open. When he heard Honda’s voice pleading to go serve ‘his god Seth,’ he did look. The mutt had Honda in what could easily become an effective headlock if needed, but otherwise seemed like just an overly friendly side hug.

“Hey Set,” Jounouchi said loud enough for the guards outside to hear. “Hope you didn’t have to wait too long.”

“Hardly,” he replied. “You’re still late.”

Jounouchi shrugged. “Yeah, well. I was busy being a good First Prime and had one of our gracious hosts bring us some coffee.”

Thank Ra. Something was going right.

“Squirt should be here any minute.”

Jounouchi winked and the trembling fear Seto had been trying desperately to squash back into oblivion finally began to fade. Yugi was coming. Good. The sooner the better. Setesh hadn’t given Seto much time to think about his answer to his ultimatum. Seto would need that coffee if Setesh summoned him before they could make good on their getaway.

But first, Honda’s mental independence would need to be dealt with. Unless Jounouchi was willing to let Seto experiment with a fork, an electrical socket, and Honda’s fingers, then he would need to find another way to deliver a large enough shock to completely eradicate the nish’ta that wouldn’t outright kill motorcycle boy. Seto let his gaze slide over the holstered zat’nik’katel on the armed guards’ waists. The serpent shaped weapon could easily deliver the required shock, but it wasn’t silent nor would it be easy for Seto to get his hands on.

Unless…

“My lord Nephthys,” one of the guards said, stepping inside the room. “Seth requires your presence in the throne room.”

…there went his time. And Yugi _still_ wasn’t here yet. Damn. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“I will join him presently,” Seto said. “I wish to speak to my First Prime before I leave.”

The guard shifted, hefting his gun like an amateur attempting to look like he knew what he was doing. “He requests your presence _immediately,”_ he said.

Seto’s eyes flashed and was satisfied when the human flinched involuntarily. “Wheeler,” he said, meeting the blonde boy’s attentive brown gaze. “Let me know when the coffee arrives. I’ll need it when I’m come back. Don’t wait for me.”

Jounouchi’s grin tightened at the edges, catching the hidden meaning to Seto’s words and not liking the implications. Tough. If the mutt had any brains at all, he’d do as Seto said. Setesh could _not_ capture the Pharaoh.

Without waiting for a reply, Seto fell into step behind the guard and allowed himself to be guided down the hallway towards Setesh’s throne room. The walk was tense and silent, even with Setesh’s disciples stepping aside and bowing when he passed them. The bows weren’t as deep as the ones they gave to Setesh, but the fearful worship was a pleasant relief. Anything but the gnawing fear at the bottom of Seto’s stomach that grew with each step closer to Setesh.

He rounded a corner and was mildly surprised to see the military woman and another female cultist join him. The blonde woman bumped his arm and something inside him resonated like a tuning fork. Instinctively, he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. Her blue eyes were wide in surprised confusion; her nish’ta muddled mind unable to understand what was going on.

“My lord?”

Seto ignored the guard, clutching the woman’s chin with his silver encased fingers, tilting it to the left and right to get a good look at her throat. There were no tell-tale scars that indicated a point of entry. Nothing. The woman’s pale skin was unmarked. But Seto knew he wasn’t wrong. He didn’t notice it at first because it was subtle and faded from time, but there was a pull in his veins. Now that he was in physical contact with her, he wondered how he’d missed it before.

Naquadah. The mineral was not native to this planet yet was vital to any and all Goa’uld technology. It was literally in their veins. Any Goa’uld could detect another Goa’uld or Jaffa from the naquadah flowing within them. It was like a tugging or pulling that itched and demanded it make its presence known.

This woman had once been blended with a symbiote and _survived_ the symbiote’s removal, a feat which should be impossible. The host _always_ died when the Goa’uld within was removed, whether by death or by forced extraction. How had she survived? More importantly, who had used her as a host and what System Lord did they serve? Unless she killed the symbiote herself.

“Um, is something wrong?” the woman asked, her voice shy and confused, as if afraid she’d done something wrong.

Tilting the woman’s head again, Seto again looked for any scars just to be absolutely sure. Again, nothing. It was maddening how… She had an earpiece. Well, well.

* * *

Jacob could sense Teal’c's concern for their friend. He felt the same as he listened to the situation developing through his daughter’s earpiece. Not for the first time, he fervently wished SG-1 had the chance to smuggle in a camera. The idea had been suggested but ultimately shot down. Cameras were not easily hidden and there was no way for them to know what would happen once SG-1 was subjected to Seth’s nish’ta.

_:Peace. All will be well.:_

Jacob believed the Tok’ra’s whisper, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He wanted to order Teal’c to hit the button that would shock Sam, Jack, and Daniel out of the virulent nish’ta’s influence. But it was too soon. They had to wait a full hour to be sure the nish’ta had a chance to permeate every tissue. If they shocked it too soon, the organism would hide way in unaffected tissue and reappear later. They had to be patient.

It wasn’t easy.

_“Onak sha sree Tau’ri. I know you can hear me.”_

Goa’uld! Selmek surged to the forefront of Jacob’s mind, just short of taking control, as both Jacob and Teal’c sat up in surprise. The warped voice was distinctly Goa’uld, but it was not the same as Seth’s voice. This one wasn’t quite as deep nor as clipped. There was another Goa’uld in the compound.

_“You were foolish to come here. If I can sense you, Setesh will as well and he will not be as merciful as I am.”_

“What is this?” Selmak whispered through Jacob’s lips. Together, host and symbiote turned to Teal’c for answers but found the same confusion written on the Jaffa’s face.

“I do not recognize this voice,” Teal’c said, worry creasing the corners of his dark eyes.

_“I would suggest you keep your distance from him, little warrior. If you value your life and the lives of your comrades. Rel'tor'key.”_

The sounds that followed were muffled like cloth rubbing against cloth muddled with footsteps moving away. Jacob’s heart was racing as he and Selmak strained to hear anything else, anything that could possibly identify the unknown Goa’uld.

“It would appear Capt. Carter has been identified,” Teal’c said, already reaching for the button to activate the electric current built into SG-1’s earpieces. But Selmak grabbed the Jaffa’s hand before he could succeed.

“No! It hasn’t been an hour yet,” the Tok’ra said, the symbiote’s warped voice doing little to hide the worry and shock Jacob could feel in his mind. “If you shock them too soon, then you risk losing them once more.”

Jacob knew Selmak had not expected another Goa’uld’s presence at Seth’s cult and neither did SG-1. But Jacob trusted Selmak to know when to call off a botched mission and when to stick it out and hope for the best. If Selmak believed the chance of finishing this mission successfully was high enough, the Tok’ra would risk its continuation.

But that was still his daughter out there with two Goa’uld and a horde of brainwashed cultists armed to the teeth. He really should not have gotten up this morning. Judging from the Jaffa’s disconcerted expression, Teal’c was probably feeling the same way. Damn Seth.


	8. Get Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seto embraces Door #3 but sacrifices something to do so and Jounouchi is _not_ going to leave this crazy place with Setesh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Longest chapter to date. Almost 5k words. It's currently 1:30am where I am so I'm going to post this, sleep in tomorrow, then edit it.

There were not as many cultists in the room as there had been last time Seto was here. Most of them were women sitting and fawning over Setesh and pawing at his throne. He kept an eye on the blonde military officer as she approached the throne and knelt by Setesh’s left hand. She was much too close for Seto’s comfort. If Setesh wasn’t effectively distracted, or his hand bumped hers, then he would _know_ she was once a host to a Goa’uld.

“With these weapons I have provided," the snake purred, "we will defend against any incursion from the impure forces outside our gates.”

Seto snorted in derision. “I suppose they should defend themselves against you, then?” he taunted, allowing his voice to warp as he lifted his gaze to the snake.

Setesh’s eyes blazed. “I grow tired of your tongue,” he said, leaning back on his throne in a show of confidence. He waved a careless hand and Seto felt the cool muzzle of an AK-47 press against his spine. Instead of silencing him, Seto’s temper flared.

“I fail to see what your theatrics have to do with anything,” he hissed. “They are nothing but pliable puppets for your amusement. Why continue to treat them like a caretaker when we both know you’re nothing but a merciless slave driver?”

Setesh’s eyes flashed as they locked onto Seto’s own blue. The muzzle dug harder into his back in a not-so-subtle command to move forward. He bit back the instinctive desire to break the cultist’s wrist. He would succeed and it would feel vindictively great, until the other cultists shot him dead. Not desirable. He needed patience.

Without the Millennium Rod, Seto’s control over his Shadows was less perfection and pinpoint accuracy like a sniper rifle and more instinctual, wild, and chaotic like a tactical nuke. If he let go of his control -like he desperately wanted to- then he risked alerting the Pharaoh and potentially hurting himself and anyone else in the vicinity. He hadn’t forgotten the incident with Yugi’s Grandpa.

But he would let go if he had no other choice. He would _not_ allow himself to be extracted from his host. He would let the Shadows devour his soul alive first.

“Have you thought on your options, Nephthys?” Setesh asked, his gaze fixed on Seto. His gold encased fingers of the kara kesh gleaming in the ambient light of the room. Outside the compound’s fence, hidden by an ATF base camp tent, and listening closely to the conversation through three separate earpieces, a Tok’ra and Jaffa looked at each other in disbelief.

“Unfortunately,” Seto replied, narrowing his eyes. “Though, I have to admit, your definition of ‘options’ has certainly deteriorated over the years.”

“As it would seem your ability to understand when you have lost.” The smirk worming its way onto Setesh’s face was sickeningly sweet and made Seto feel infinitely disgusting.

“On the contrary,” Seto said, crossing his arms in a show of indifference. “I know when I’ve lost.” His eyes flashed. “And it has never been, nor will it ever be to you. The only person who has ever defeated me in a fair test of skills,” he grinned, “earned my absolute, unwavering loyalty.”

The scowl on the snake’s face was thunderous and his hands gripped the arms of his throne in frustration. Thick, tan fingers brushed pale, feminine and Setesh’s face stilled. Damn. Inevitable, yet sooner than expected.

Setesh’s stared at the blonde woman and Seto’s mind began calculating. If whoever was on the other end of those earpieces had any sense, they should start mobilizing now. The false god’s fingers gripped the woman’s chin and Seto felt a brief tingle of sympathy.

“You,” Setesh breathed, the surprise evident in his voice. “You were once blended.”

The woman blinked, the drug-induced awe in her blue eyes clouding in confusion. “Blended?” she asked.

Setesh ignored her, jerking her head from one side to the other just like Seto had done in the hallway. Seto still couldn’t figure out how the woman could have been implanted with a Goa’uld symbiote without any sign of-

“No entry wounds,” Setesh murmured, his dark eyebrows furrowing. “Bring the ones who came with her.”

The woman, her commanding officer, and the brunette whose occupation Seto still couldn’t pin down were lined up in front of Setesh. Other than the woman’s innocent confusion, there was no visible expression on their faces.

“Who sent you?” Setesh demanded. “Who does your military serve?”

Well, there was an option.

The false god’s eyes flashed at their silence. “The System Lords?” he demanded. His face contorted in barely concealed fury. “The Tok’ra?”

Tok’ra? 'Against Ra'? There was such a faction? Most interesting. However, a true answer would not suit Seto’s purposes.

“Don’t be a fool, Setesh,” Seto said, stepping forward so he stood between the brunette with the nerd glasses and the military woman. “I did tell you.” An arrogant smile tugging the corners of his lips upwards. “While you wasted your time creating cults that last a few years at most, I was busy,” he placed one hand on the woman’s shoulder and the other on the brunette’s, “building an army.”

Golden eyes flashed with fury and Seto sniffed in disdain. “Did you really think I would only come here with just my First Prime?” he taunted. “Your intellect must have deteriorated in your old age.”

Setesh stood slowly, straightening his back so he towered over Seto. “So you have made your choice?”

“I have.” Seto held the false god’s gaze, and spat in his face. “May Ammit rip you apart limb from limb,” he hissed viciously.

The sight of Setesh struggling to keep from wiping away the saliva dripping down his cheek while his eyes glowed and his face flushed in fury was one of the most satisfying things Seto had ever seen. It almost made the fiery, nerve wracking torture from Setesh’s kara kesh worth it.

“Insolent welp!”

The words were nearly lost in the fog of pain as his brain was assaulted by energy that set every nerve ending alight with an acute pain response. Strangely, he could feel himself wriggling in agony in the back of his host’s neck. It was odd, in a detached sort of way, to know he could feel himself and _himself._ Seto could barely find the ability to force his host’s body to lift his left hand and grasp Setesh’s coat with weak fingers.

By contrast, the strength to activate his own kara kesh and blast Setesh back into that gaudy excuse for an overly uncomfortable armchair was easy. Seto collapsed in a heap on the ground, his arms twitching from overly sensitive skin and the lingering affects of the kara kesh. He gasped once, twice, and coughed, immediately slamming a hand over his mouth in shock.

How? He’d felt… He didn’t even realize… A mere hand device shouldn’t be able to _do that._ A Goa’uld’s connection to the host was practically absolute. Only specialized equipment should be able to weaken the bond enough to force an extraction. And yet Seto was still acutely aware of the fact he’d felt his own body try to escape the pain by abandoning the host’s body.

It went against a Goa’uld’s survival instinct to leave a host without any alternative readily available. A symbiote alone couldn’t survive long outside the protection of warm water or a warm body. How had Setesh’s kara kesh managed to override Seto’s survival instincts like that? It shouldn’t be _possible!_

Unless some part of him knew that the only way to escape the pain _was_ to abandon his current host for another. Now that he thought about it, there were several options in the vicinity. He grimaced. Apparently, no amount of withholding genetic memory could completely erase a Goa’uld’s most basic instinct: survive, no matter the cost. Good to know.

As carefully as he could, he opened himself to his Shadows. Already, he could feel them surging into his body, fueling the adrenaline rushing through his veins, and bolstering his strength and senses with the possessiveness of a spoiled child. He could almost hear their whispers in his ears. If he didn’t do something, they would and they would not be hygienic about it. Seto had no desire to be drenched in blood again.

Footsteps!

With a deep breath, Seto felt his body move, spinning his torso and using the momentum to swing his legs up to strike the person approaching him. His back came up off the ground just as his left foot planted itself firmly on the floor and he rode the inertia up to a standing position, immediately slamming a fist into a cultist’s face. He dodged the cultist’s machine gun and swiped the zat-nik-katel from his belt.

This he was familiar with. In a split second borne from years in the ever-changing field of battle, his blue gaze scanned the room, identifying the threats and noting with interest the way the two military officers and their civilian companion were handling their own assailants. He aimed his zat-nick-katel at the cultist he’d taken it from, squeezed the handle of the weapon, activating it, squeezed again, and watched a thin, spiraling beam of blue energy strike his attacker in the back. Aim, squeeze, shoot, aim, squeeze, shoot, aim, squeeze, shoot. Five times in rapid succession, five cultists fell twitching to the floor. He was about to make it six when a shockwave caught him by surprise and he became forcefully acquainted with the throne room wall.

Dazed, Seto blinked, and dodged, rolling across the floor to avoid another shockwave that would have potentially crushed him to death. He didn’t make it far before inhumanly strong fingers grasped a handful of his hair and jerked him back hard enough for his neck to zing painfully in warning.

This was going to hurt.

Both of his hands instantly reached back to scrabble at Setesh’s fingers, and thankfully he hadn’t let go of the zat-nick-katel. He fired and was relieved to hear the false god’s cry of pained surprise mixed with his own grunt as some of the energy from the blast ricocheted into his own body through the physical contact. He had to get away. He had to live. He’d made a promise and like hell he was going to fail now. Not when he was so close.

Picking himself up, Seto raced across the room, sweeping his Shadow-empowered right hand in a dismissive gesture that tossed the three military people out of his way without causing them too much harm. Though, from the sounds of their landing, they’d hate their bruises later.

He fired his zat-nick-katel at any cultist he came across, leaving them either convulsing in pain or unconscious in the halls and rooms he passed. Better that then leave them slaves to the nish’ta. Besides, the more people wandering around in confusion looking for help and escape, the better. The sheer number of cultists would slow down the armed forces no doubt encircling the compound at this very moment.

When he arrived at his former quarters, he didn’t bother to knock before busting through the door. He had to quickly knock aside the muzzle of an AK-47 before a bullet planted itself in his face. Good thing the blonde mutt knew better than to keep his finger on the trigger unless he intended to fire. Jounouchi realized his mistake and lowered his weapon, stepping back so Seto could come inside.

“Kaiba! You’re alright!”

Yugi!

Sure enough, there was the young Pharaoh reborn, holding a tied up Honda. The bleached bangs of the boy’s black hair stood out in the dim light of the room. One of them must have closed the shades over the window. Good thinking.

“Have you shocked him yet?” Seto asked in his normal voice, nodding to Honda’s bound, gagged, and struggling form.

“What?” Yugi said. “What do you mean?”

Looking at Jounouchi, Seto clarified, “Have you electrocuted him yet?”

Jounouchi winced but shook his head while Yugi gasped. “What? Why would you want to-”

Seto lifted his nat-nick-katel and fired a single shot at Honda’s struggling form much to Yugi’s horror. Honda’s body spasmed as the energy violently jolted his system before slumping and gasping for breath.

“Why did you do that?” Yugi cried, grasping his friend’s shoulders and checking or a pulse.

“It was the only way to get rid of the toxin’s hold on him,” Seto said, checking the hallway to be sure they hadn’t been found yet. He could hear other nat-nick-katel fire and gunfire nearby, probably from those military officers and the cultists who hadn’t been shocked out of their drug haze yet.

“Don’t worry,” Jounouchi said, moving to untie his friend. “He’ll be fine.”

Seto could practically hear the silent “I hope” tacked onto the end of that sentence but he couldn’t let himself care just yet. He was sore, he had a splitting headache, and they were still in enemy territory. Worse still, he wasn’t sure who the enemy was anymore.

“We don’t have much time,” he said in curt, clipped tones. “We need to get out of here. Setesh isn’t dead and the military is outside just _waiting_ for an excuse to raid this place and when they do, it won’t be pretty for anyone involved.”

Especially since they’d seen his face. He _really_ wanted to know how those three managed to break free of Setesh’s nish’ta without Seto knowing. That was cleverly done.

Indecision warred on Yugi’s face before something dark and authoritative tugged Seto’s Shadows. It was brief but definitely there and, for a moment, he felt the intense desire to kneel. Pharaoh?! But as quickly as the sensation appeared, it vanished leaving Seto’s Shadows grasping after it in a vain attempt to find what they missed.

He was too raw right now. His Shadows were too prominent. He needed to rein them in before he accidentally hurt someone without meaning to, again. Damn it all, he _needed_ his Millennium Rod.

Something soft and off-white almost smacked him in the face, landing on his shoulder when he just barely dodged a direct hit. Staring at the limp whitish thing with a frown, he tugged it off his shoulder and held it up. It was a cultist outfit.

“I grabbed a couple spare outfits from the laundry,” Yugi said, watching Jounouchi pull his own long tunic on over his shirt. The baggy cream pants covered his blue jeans but left his shoes visible. “I figured we could use them to blend in, you know, just in case,” he said with a shrug.

“Good thinking, Yug’,” Jounouchi said, rubbing a friendly hand through Yugi’s hair.

Good thinking indeed. Even if the very idea of disguising himself was degrading and not something he would remotely enjoy. The things he did for the Pharaoh and his gang of geeks. A drunken groan startled Yugi and Jounouchi, drawing their attention away from Seto. Honda’s eyes fluttered open and he rubbed his undoubtedly aching head as he blinked like a child waking from a deep sleep and bad dreams.

“Yugi?” Now almost fully awake, Honda looked at the room around him in confusion bordering on panic. “Where are we? What happened?” He clutched his head. “Oh god. What did I do?” He surged forward and clutched Yugi’s shoulders. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to I-”

Seto tuned him out as he pulled his borrowed tunic over his head and the baggy pants over his own skinny jeans. Surreptitiously, he tugged off the kara kesh and tucked it into the pocket of his trenchoat underneath the cream tunic. He didn’t miss the knowing look the mutt tossed him as he did so. Thankfully, Jounouchi kept silent for the time being.

“Enough talking,” Seto commanded. “You can apologize and bond or whatever you geeks do later. Right now, we need to get out of here before one of us gets shot. Now _move!”_

* * *

Jounouchi helped Honda to his feet and together with Yugi followed Kaiba out into the hall. He wasn’t exactly ready to leave his borrowed gun behind yet but he didn’t want to keep it either. Besides, since Kaiba kept that tiny blue phaser thing, Jounouchi didn’t think there would be much of a problem. Yugi was obviously not handling the violence very well if the distinctive narrowing of the eyes and _presence_ Jounouchi felt from his friend was anything to go by.

Yugi knew when a fight was necessary but killing someone had never really been his style. That had always been Yami’s and even then, it had only been in the defense of Yugi or one of Yugi’s friends. The spirit of the Puzzle had been more docile lately, but Jounouchi knew it wouldn’t take much for the spirit to fall back on old practices if he thought it was necessary.

Kaiba was another game altogether. Jounouchi had spent several years in a street gang. He knew a killer’s eyes when he saw them and Kaiba had killed before. He’d known it before this whole mess with Setesh but he hadn’t actually _seen_ that side of the KaibaCorp CEO so blatantly before.

“Pull up your hoods,” Kaiba ordered, lifting his own hood as well. “And wipe that gun down so no one has your prints, puppy.”

“I am not an effin’ _dog,”_ Jounouchi snapped.

He still pulled up his hood and rubbed the AK-47 with his tunic before dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. Next to him, Honda was pulling his hood up and Yugi had already done so. Honda wasn’t looking too good. His face was pale and his hands were shaking. When he looked at Jounouchi, his brown eyes were wide with stifled fear.

“Hey,” Jounouchi said, resting a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”

“He’s right,” Yugi said, looking up at them with a kind smile. “You're the victim here, Honda. The one who was wrong was Seth. Calling himself a ‘god.’” He shook his head. “He will come to regret that.”

Suddenly, a man wearing the same cream colored cult outfit hurried around the corner holding the same ‘N’ shaped phaser weapon Kaiba used to zap Honda. The man took one look at them through his big bookworm glasses, cataloguing the fear in Honda’s face as well as the determination in Jounouchi’s and Yugi’s, and nodded in relief.

“Don’t worry, I’m a friend,” he said, holding out his hands in a peaceful gesture, minus the weapon in one hand. “Go to the throne room. I’ve got friends there who’ll help you get out of here.”

They all nodded, but it was Yugi who spoke. “Thank you,” he said. “Stay safe.”

“Thanks." The man ran a nervous hand through his brown hair and hurried past them.

Talk about convenient.

Jounouchi nudged Honda forward and looked up, catching the wary expression on Kaiba’s face before the businessman turned back to face the front and continued leading them. Wait a second. Had Kaiba avoided looking directly at the bookworm earlier? Yeah. When all this was over? Jounouchi wanted answers, and he sure as hell was going to get them. All of them.

They rounded the next corner and strode into the throne room just as a group of five or six hooded cultists with fear in their eyes were blinked out of existence by a light flashing between a series of metallic rings that vanished into the floor. Huh. So that’s how those weird things worked. It was actually pretty cool seeing it from this side of it rather than from the inside.

“Next group! Come on! Come on! Hurry it up!” a man with graying hair commanded, hefting another one of those ‘N’ guns as he did so. He didn’t seem to be threatening them so much as keeping an eye out for trouble.

Seto ducked his head and reached to grab Yugi’s hand, tugging him along beside him as he walked right past the man. Thankfully, Yugi didn’t struggle. He did look over his shoulder to be sure Jounouchi was still behind him though. Honda gave his friend a weak wave from where he was leaning against Jounouchi’s shoulder and Yugi’s eyes softened reassuringly. They were almost free.

The gray-haired man made sure they were all standing on the symbol of Setesh engraved on the floor before stepping back. Then the Rings flew up around them and light-

-flashed and they were back in that underground concrete room with no windows or doors. Right back where they started.

“I guess we follow them then?” Yugi said, pointing to the retreating white back of the cultists who’d come before them. They were moving down the dark tunnel, veering left instead of right like he expected them too. Hadn't he and Kaiba originally come from a tunnel on the right?

“Sounds good to me,” Jounouchi said, not bothering to question the change in direction as he helped Honda limp across the room.

A blonde haired woman suddenly appeared from the tunnel and waved them forward. “Hey, come on. Let’s go,” she called urgently.

Jounouchi tugged Honda close so his friend could use him as a crutch as their group obeyed the woman’s orders. However, Jounouchi didn’t miss the way Seto subtly avoided the woman’s touch, preferring the keep as far away from her as possible. Why? Was she a threat Jounouchi didn’t know about? He was really getting sick and tired of not knowing things.

Just as they cleared the woman’s immediate vicinity, the rings returned with another group of cultists. Jounouchi glanced over his shoulder to be sure they wouldn’t be attacked, and saw their eyes. Fear. Confusion. Lost. Hope.

“This way,” he called to them, his voice overriding the woman’s. “Come with us.”

The new arrivals rushed to join their little group, meshing with them as if seeking safety in numbers. Seto slowed his pace to match Jounouchi’s and Jounouchi got the distinct feeling the businessman was trying to hide from something, or -Jounouchi glanced back at that woman- someone. Probably had something to do with Setesh.

Please be dead.

Suddenly, the ground shook violently and something behind them exploded sending the already frightened people rushing forward towards the tunnel’s exit.

“Carter! He’s down here!”

Jounouchi looked over his shoulder and saw both the gray-haired man and the glasses bookworm pushing their way through the crowd.

“Seth’s down here!” the gray-haired man shouted.

In his peripheral vision, Seto kept his head down and stuck close to Jounouchi. Shit. If Seth was down here, then they were all in trouble. Worse, unflappable, ice man, Kaiba was spooked.

“Hey Yug’,” he called softly. “Can you help Honda?”

Yugi eagerly reached up and took over as Honda’s crutch while Jounouchi fell back to Kaiba.

“Don’t complain,” he said, grabbing Kaiba’s arm and looping it over his shoulder. The icy glare he got for his efforts didn’t faze him. “Listen, man,” he whispered urgently, “you either play along or get caught. Your choice.”

The fear that flickered through Kaiba’s eyes keyed Jounouchi in to the fact that yes, Kaiba was seriously afraid of something. Probably Setesh since they knew the bastard was down here. But whatever the cause, Kaiba gave in and leaned on Jounouchi’s shoulder as the glasses bookworm pushed past them. When the gray-haired man rushed past, he yanked Jounouchi’s hood off as he did so.

“Hey!” Jounouchi cried, but the man had already moved on to Yugi, then another person, then another. That’s when Jounouchi realized that not only was Setesh down here with them, but the bastard was _disguised_ as _one of them._

Fuck.

“Teal’c!” someone ahead called. “Stay up there by the entrance. Make sure he doesn’t get out another way!”

Jounouchi could feel Kaiba flinch through his clothes and he gritted his teeth. “What do we need to do?” he whispered.

Kaiba didn’t answer. Instead, he ducked, masking it as a trip as an older man pushed past them on Jounouchi’s side. The man glanced at them briefly before dismissing them when he saw Jounouchi’s bright blonde hair. Huh, he must know what Setesh looks like. Good.

“Jacob! Keep an eye out for Seth. The other guy’s probably down here too!” the gray-haired man shouted and this time Kaiba’s flinch wasn’t subtle.

“What’s he look like?” the older man, Jacob, called.

Jounouchi picked up their pace until they were practically pushing Yugi and Honda forward.

“Brown hair, blue eyes,” the woman’s voice called from further behind them. But it sounded like she was moving closer. “Young. Didn’t look older than twenty.”

“Shit.”

Jounouchi agreed with that sentiment. They knew about Kaiba. That explained a hell of a lot. They needed to get _out!_

“Setesh!”

That sounded a _heck_ of a lot like the Setesh and Kaiba’s warped voices. No freaking way. There was _another_ alien here?!

Both Jounouchi and Kaiba whirled around in shock only to see the false god blast the older man back with that golden hand-glove device. More than a few innocent bystanders were caught in the shockwave and also flew back. Yeesh. That would leave a mark.

“Dad!”

The woman was the _alien’s daughter? What?!_  How did something like that even work? Don’t question it. It was probably disgusting anyway.

Together, Jounouchi and Kaiba rounded the last corner and saw the ex-cultists climbing up a rough, iron rung ladder towards the surface. Yugi urged Honda up first then followed with a quick glance over his shoulder. Jounouchi bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet as he waited for Yugi to get clear before pushing Kaiba towards the ladder.

Except Kaiba refused to budge. Not until a huge man in military camouflage stepped off the ladder and began running back into the tunnel. He was dark skinned and built like a football player. The ex-cultists who had gathered in a group by the ladder’s base until it was clear quickly jumped out of his way, crushing Kaiba and Jounouchi back against the stone wall until they were both squished. Once the man rounded the corner, Kaiba finally moved to the ladder.

“You first,” Jounouchi said. “I’ll cover you.”

With a quick nod, Kaiba took hold of the iron rungs and started climbing when-

“Hey!”

Jounouchi turned to see the blonde woman a ways back in the tunnel. She held up _another_ gold hand device -how many of those things were there?!- and sent someone flying backwards into the stone wall _much too close_ to Jounouchi for comfort.

Jounouchi skittered back towards the ladder, glancing nervously up at the people still climbing because that person just blown back was _Setesh_. Whatever was keeping those climbers from going faster had better vanish before Jounouchi steamrolled over all of them. They’d made it this far, he wasn’t going to let his friends, Kaiba included, get caught by Setesh. Who was looking right at him. _Shit!_

“First Prime,” the bastard rasped. His dark eyes looked up and his lips peels back in a vicious snarl. He pulled himself onto all fours and began crawling towards them, his eyes fixed on Kaiba. “Nephthys.”

“Go. Go! _Go!”_ Jounouchi shouted.

The people above them on the ladder took one look down, saw Setesh, and picked up their speed. But it still wasn’t fast enough. Setesh grabbed Jounouchi’s leg, but the grip wasn’t very strong.

“Give me my queen!” Setesh hissed, the air whistling strangely between his teeth.

Thoroughly freaking out, Jounouchi kicked his foot wildly, catching the false god in the face and knocking the bastard on his back. Brown eyes flashed gold, then Setesh’s body was crushed into the dirt by another shockwave from close range.

Stunned by the brutality of the strike, Jounouchi pressed his back against the stone wall, a hand feeling for the ladder rungs. He stepped onto the lowest rungs and began pulling himself up now that the line of people was fading. He couldn’t help but look back in awful fascination.

“You killed him,” glasses bookworm said.

“All hail Dorothy,” the gray-haired man said wryly.

The woman nodded, looking surprisingly disturbed by her own actions. “What about the other Goa’uld?”

Shit. Time to go. Turning back to the ladder, Jounouchi hauled himself up after Kaiba, following as closely as he could without causing Kaiba to trip. Finally, Kaiba climbed over the concrete ledge at the top of the pipe and Jounouchi saw the sky. Hands reached down and half pulled him up the rest of the way until his own two feet stood firmly, if a bit wobbly, on solid ground.

Freedom. Finally.

“I’ll go up and give the other Goa’uld's description to Hamner’s men,” Jounouchi heard Jacob say, the older man’s voice carrying up the pipe shaft. “It’s possible he’s already on the surface.”

Or not. “We gotta go,” he said. Grabbing Yugi in one hand and Honda in the other, he began herding Kaiba and the others to the edge of the treeline. Once they got to their motorcycles, they could leave these crazy people in the dust.

If their bikes weren’t under guard.

…

Please don’t let their bikes be under guard.


	9. Survivor's Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jounouchi and Yugi deal with Honda's guilt while newly promoted Maj. Sam Carter and SG-1 finally get information on Nephthys in between preparing for a treaty between Earth, the Goa'uld, and the Asgard. O'Neill is not okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Just fair warning. There is some mention of gore near the end of the chapter regarding an act Seto once committed against a Goa'uld System Lord. But it's brief, if amusing. I'll go ahead and add a tag for it though, just in case.
> 
> For a rough time reference in both the YGO and SG-1 canon universes, this AU takes place post Duelist Kingdom but before Battle City (which probably won't happen like it did in canon) and very early in the season 3 episode 3 episode "Fair Game" for SG-1.
> 
>  **Random point:** I consider Jounouchi "Joey" Katsuya to be half American and half Japanese. Canonically Jounouchi's dad was an abusive alcoholic. So in this AU, that's still true. Just fyi.
> 
> Allhat said, I have work tomorrow and my thesis deadline is looming. As in, everything is due November 5. I'm dying. O.o That said, I'll edit this tomorrow. As usual.

The conference was at its height and Jounouchi sat at one of the tables near the poster exhibit hall. Honestly, he was only here for moral support for Yugi and the free food. Oh, and to keep a sharp eye on Honda who was still beating himself up over the whole Seth cult thing. Granted, it had only been two days since they escaped that hell hole.

He glanced to the side and groaned when he saw his oldest friend staring listlessly at his small, paper cup of coffee. He nudged Honda’s shoulder hard enough to make the brown haired boy grab the table to keep from sprawling across the floor.

“Wha- Joey! What was that for?” he cried, flustered.

“To keep you from drifting off to Lala Land,” Jounouchi chirped easily, taking a long sip of his coke. He was exhausted and annoyed from having to leave the convention earlier to go change his shirt after the first coke can had exploded all over him. Setting the new can on the table, he flashed his friend a brilliant view of his pearly whites. “Besides, if I gotta suffer through this overgrown science fair, then so do you.”

The corners of Honda’s lips twitched up and his dark brown eyes softened, but Jounouchi could still see the lingering signs of mental exhaustion in his friend’s face. Jounouchi didn’t blame him one bit. After Duelist Kingdom, they had all stuck super close to each other. Much closer than they had before. Leaving Anzu behind in Japan while the Yugi, Jounouchi, and Honda came to Seattle for the International Convention of Technology and Gaming was unpleasant for their whole gang.

“You know, this isn’t just a science fair,” Honda said, regaining some of his confidence.

“Yeah,” Jounouchi drawled, leaning back far enough in his chair that his head hung over the back and he could see the poster exhibit upside down. “But the actual gaming part doesn’t start until five.”

“It’s already started, you dork,” Honda said, laughing at his friend’s antics. “I heard they had enough people to fill the whole Ballroom. The _big_ one.”

“Still?” Jounouchi said, lifting his head enough to stare at Honda in disbelief. “I woulda thought most of those guys either dropped out or lost by now.”

Honda shrugged. “I know the room was full the first day. It’s probably only half full now. But that’s only the duelists. You know there’re people watching some of those duels. Now that we’re getting into the semifinals, the games should be good.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Jounouchi said, letting his head drop back casually.

Man, if the ceiling really was the floor, that would be so awesome. Heck, Yugi could stand on the roof-floor with the power of his hair alone. He snickered to himself. He could just imagine Yami in all his spiky-haired glory stalking up to a KaibaCorp Duel Arena on his head, his hair spikes acting as his feet. He couldn’t take it and just busted out laughing.

From his spot by his poster, Yugi glanced over at the table where Jounouchi and Honda were sitting. Jounouchi managed a weak wave before clutching his belly and collapsing back in fits of laughter again.

“You know you’re being obnoxious, right?”

Amusement. Gone. Jounouchi frowned at the midget killjoy and huffed. “For your information,” he said, waving a finger in Mokuba’s face, “I happen to have a fabulous sense of humor. Just because you don’t understand, doesn’t mean I’m being obnoxious. It just means your sense of humor is subpar.”

Honda choked on his coffee and began coughing and laughing in both delight and embarrassment. Mokuba, however, was not amused. The young boy huffed, crossed his arms over his white suit, and gave Jounouchi his best Big-Brother-Kaiba glare. Points to the kid. It was a pretty good glare. Kaiba’s was just better.

Speaking of.

“Hey, where’s your big bro?” Jounouchi asked, smacking Honda on the back to make sure his friend didn’t accidentally choke himself to death. Laughter was great and all, but laughing to death was not. “I haven’t seen him around for a couple days.”

Mokuba’s gray eyed glare melted into worry. He glanced over at the temporary partition separating the Poster Exhibit Hall from the Dealers’ and Professionals’ Exhibit Hall. The roar of hundreds of people’s voices from the other side meshed with the conversations of the poster presenters, judges, and guests on this side. It was something Jounouchi liked about this place.

Anzu would’ve loved it.

“He’s doing better,” Mokuba said reluctantly, drawing Jounouchi’s attention back to him. “Whatever happened in that cult place really rattled him.”

Yeah, no kidding.

“Stock in his company dropped a bit when he didn’t appear to give the announcement of his new portable Duel Disk that day,” Mokuba continued. “I think some of the stockholders think he’s had a relapse.”

Relapse from wha- Oh. Jounouchi grimaced. Yeah, Yami really did do a number on the poor guy. Twice. Damn. How Kaiba managed to survive one of the spirit’s Penalty Games was impressive enough. But the fact he got subjected to and _survived_ a second? It still blew Jounouchi’s mind. And Kaiba said _he_ had all the luck.

Then again, Jounouchi was still thanking Lady Luck for the fact their bikes hadn’t been guarded back when they escaped Setesh’s cult every waking moment. Maybe Kaiba was right and his luck was a gift because _dayum!_ The odds of their motorcycles not only being missed by the military forces surrounding the cult compound _and_ they were able to ride away into the rainy sunset -technically early afternoon sun, but whatever- was freaking amazing. It still made Jounouchi’s head whirl.

His luck didn’t seem to last much beyond their escape, though. When they got back to the hotel parking deck, he hadn’t been able to corner Kaiba before the CEO vanished. The guy’s hands had been shaking. _Kaiba’s_ hands had been _shaking._ And the look on Kaiba’s face when he took off his helmet… Yeah. Jounouchi wasn’t that much of an asshole.

“I was able to talk him into coming today,” Mokuba said. “He’s at the KaibaCorp display at the front of the Dealer’s Room over there.” He nodded to the exhibit beyond the partition. “I told him if people saw him working, or talking, or just _being here_ then they might forget that stupid relapse rumor and the stocks would start climbing again.”

He sighed. “It hasn’t been easy,” the kid said. “Ever since big brother fired the Board of Directors for colluding with Pegasus for a hostile takeover, the stocks and support for the company have been fluctuating. It’s just like back when Gozaburo died or when Seto got rid of the weapons manufacturing department.” He bit his lip. “That plus that little adventure…”

Wow. Jounouchi felt guilty. And if _he_ felt guilty… He glanced at Honda and, _shit,_ yep, Honda was definitely feeling guilty.

“It’s my fault,” Honda said, his gaze pinned to the floor in remorse. “I shouldn’t have let my guard down.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Mokuba said seriously, and what? That just wasn’t fair. It’s really _wasn’t_ Honda’s fault. “But I know why you did,” the kid added, relaxing his stance. “You felt safe here and you _should have_ been safe here.” Dark gray eyes hardened angrily. “I don’t know what possessed the convention security to allow those lunatics into this place-”

“They did it because the actual convention is open to the public,” Jounouchi said. “You just can’t go into the Dealer’s Rooms, Exhibit halls, or join in any of the duels without a badge.” He held up his own name badge hanging around his neck on an orange lanyard.

Mokuba huffed. “I _know_ that,” he snapped. “It’s just-” His small fists shook by his sides. “I could have lost my big brother _again_ and I couldn’t do anything about it _again_ and he’s hurting and I can’t do anything to help _again!”_

Woah. Honest to goodness _tears_ were appearing in Mokuba’s eyes and Jounouchi had no idea what to do. Yugi. He needed Yugi. Yugi would know what to do.

“Hold my coke,” he said, thrusting his can into a startled Honda’s hand as he bolted from his chair and down one of the poster exhibit aisles towards Yugi. Jounouchi was useless when faced with tears. So was Yami, actually. But Yugi knew what’s up.

“Yug’!” he called. “Hey Yugi!”

His friend stopped talking to the latest guest observer of his ‘Possibilities of Holographic Gaming Technology in the Academic Community’ poster and turned to Jounouchi’s fast approaching form.

“Jounouchi? What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowing over his friendly violet eyes. “Is Honda okay?”

“He’s fine,” Jounouchi said quickly. “Um, it’s Mokuba.”

Yugi blinked. “Mokuba? Where?” He leaned around his friend’s tall form to see the younger Kaiba brother standing by the table Honda still sat at.

“Yeah.” Jounouchi scratched his head awkwardly. “He’s, um, well, he’s, uh, c-crying. And I’m not really sure…” He flailed helplessly. “I need you to help me figure this out,” he said finally.

Yugi’s gaze softened. “Sure thing. My session’s over in two minutes anyway,” he said. Turning to his current guest, he bowed deeply in respectful apology. “Please excuse me,” he said. “I have to help a friend of mine with a personal matter.”

The American professor blinked at the bow but smiled and waved Yugi off nonetheless. Falling into step next to Jounouchi, Yugi hurried down the aisle to where his other friends were.

“Mokuba?” he called. “What is it? Is it something I can help with?”

The youngest Kaiba looked up at Yugi with wide, innocent gray eyes and sniffled. “It’s Seto,” he said. “He’s not okay. He won’t talk to me about what happened and normally that’s alright. I mean, yeah, it hurts, but he’s trying and he was doing _so well_ before but now he’s just been so closed off and I just don’t know what to do and-”

“Woah, woah!” Yugi said, holding out his hands with wide eyes. Obviously, he hadn’t expected to be unloaded on like this. His eyes shining with worry, he tilted his head and asked, “How long has he been like this?”

Mokuba quickly wiped away his tears and visibly pulled himself up to cover his emotional slip. “Since the,” he glanced surreptitiously at Honda, “the cult thing.”

Honda winced and Jounouchi wanted to slap his face.

Abruptly, Honda stood, his coffee forgotten on the table. “Mokuba,” he said in a steady voice. “Where is your big brother right now?”

“Over there,” Mokuba said, pointing to the where the top of the KaibaCorp display poked above the partition, “working on his computer on the couch. It’s close to the NASA and NCAR displays. He likes listening to the talks on the latest advances in solar and stellar observations.”

Huh. Wonder why that was. Jounouchi bit his tongue to keep from saying anything. Wait, why was Honda going over there?

“Honda?” Yugi called.

“Wait!” Mokuba cried, running after the Japanese boy. “He’s not really in the mood to talk to anyone right now!”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Honda?” Jounouchi demanded, grabbing his friend by the collar and yanking him around.

“I’m going to apologize,” he said, his dark brown eyes fierce.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Yugi said, sadness in his gaze. He sighed. “But I understand.” He straightened his shoulders. “I’ll go with you.”

“Huh?” Honda stared at Yugi as if the kid suddenly grew a second head. “Why?”

 “Because I asked him to help,” Yugi said firmly, his face set in determination. “If I hadn’t asked, then he wouldn’t have helped.”

“But it was my fault that-”

“For the last fucking time, it was _not_ your fault,” Jounouchi snapped. “You were drugged, kidnapped, and brainwashed.” He snapped an arm out in the general direction of the KaibaCorp display. “You sayin’ it’s Kaiba’s fault Mokuba got his soul sucked out and then _he_ got his _own_ soul sucked out by Pegasus?”

“What?” Honda cried in horror.

“Ex _cuse_ me?” Mokuba gasped.

“No!” Honda said fiercely. “Pegasus was a- a-” He struggled with his words for a second. “A plantpie!”

He couldn’t help it. He snortled. “You mean ‘fruitcake,’” he corrected with a grin.

Honda tensed in frustration. “Whatever,” he snapped. “Unlike you, English isn’t my first language.”

“Sorry, sorry, bad timing,” Jounouchi said, waving his hands in apology. “Look, all I’m saying is that if it wasn’t Kaiba’s fault he and his kid brother lost their souls to a lunatic, then why the _fuck_ is it _your_ fault you got drugged, kidnapped, and brainwashed? Eh?”

Honda stood still in surprise, eventually dropping his gaze. He ran a hand through his bleached brown hair in exhaustion. “That’s not what…” He sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said reluctantly. “I just…”

“Joey’s right, you know.” Honda looked at Yugi who was smiling at him. “No one blames you for what happened,” he said. “Not even Mokuba.”

Honda’s gaze jumped to Mokuba who glared for a second, before looking away and shaking his head. “I don’t,” he muttered. “I’m mad at you. But I don’t _blame_  you.”

“Repeat after me,” Jounouchi said. He dramatically cleared his throat. “I Honda.”

Honda hesitated suspiciously. “I Honda,” he said slowly.

“Do solemnly swear,” Jounouchi said.

“Do solemnly swear,” Honda said.

“That I am not at fault for what happened.”

“That I am not at fault for what happened,” Honda said, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“And that from this day forward,” Jounouchi continued.

“And that from this day forward,” Honda said, his smile becoming brighter.

“I promise to always believe.”

“I promise to always believe,” Honda said, a chuckle making itself known.

“That Jounouchi Katsuya is the best Duelist alive.”

“That Jounouchi Katsuya is the be- _Hey!”_

Jounouchi cackled and allowed Honda to catch him in a headlock while Yugi watched, trying to calm the both of them down. Even Mokuba was giggling now. Score one for Joey!

* * *

_“Unauthorized off-world activation!”_

By the time the newly minted Major Samantha Carter arrived in the control room, the excitement of the unexpected Gate activation had died down. One glance at the monitor display and she knew why. One of the Tok’ra’s identification codes were visible, specifically her father’s IDC. She made her way down the stairs from the control room with Col. O’Neill and Daniel and made her way into the Gate room where Teal’c already stood. Together she and her team watched as the titanium alloy iris, designed to prevent any unwanted inbound traffic, finished locking in the open position.

This wasn’t the best time for her father, or any of the Tok’ra, to show up unannounced. But with the big summit between the Goa’uld System Lords, the Asgard, and Earth coming up in, she checked her watch, less than two days’ time, the Stargate Command facility and the President of the United States through Secretary of Defense Arthur Simms currently present on base as his representative needed all the time they could get to prepare. If they had any hope of being included in the Treaty of Protected Planets, they couldn’t afford to make a single mistake. Doing so would mean an interstellar war Earth simply wasn’t ready to handle yet.

When her father stepped through the shining blue event horizon that so resembled a view of the sun from underwater, some of the tension in her chest eased. Every time she saw her father alive and well, she knew opening the Stargate had been the best decision. Because of the Stargate Program, her father had been given the opportunity to travel to another world and ultimately chosen to become a host for the Tok’ra Selmak to cure his terminal lymphoma.

However hesitant he had been before blending with Selmak, he certainly seemed to enjoy himself now despite the ongoing war with the Goa’uld. Besides, seeing him argue with Selmak like he had before their misadventure with the Goa’uld Seth’s cult always looked like two parents arguing over which side of the bed they were going to sleep on. It was worrisome, but also endearing in an odd sort of way. Selmak truly cared about her father for more reasons than just Jacob Carter being their host.

“Dad,” she said, nodding to the Air Force General turned Tok’ra operative. She smiled warmly when her father embraced her firmly. “What brings you back here?”

“I was able to get some information on the Goa’uld Nephthys,” he said, turning her team and nodding respectfully to Major General Hammond. “I thought you’d want to know as soon as possible.”

General Hammond nodded. “We do,” he said, gesturing towards the door. “Let’s discuss this in the briefing room.”

Jacob glanced around curiously, noticing the unusually heightened state of activity. “Is something going on?” he asked. “Did I come at a bad time?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” O’Neill said, patting Sam’s father on the shoulder. “Carter?”

Sam explained the situation the SGC found themselves in as her team and commanding officer made their way to the briefing room overlooking the Gate room and got comfortable. Jacob and Selmak both listened with wide eyes and sharp ears.

“I see,” Selmak said through her father’s mouth. He sounded interested yet concerned. “The Treaty will be useful in preventing the Goa’uld System Lords from attacking Earth. It will not prevent the few rogue Goa’uld like Sokar from attempting it,” he added, turning to General Hammond. “But the other System Lords will endeavor to prevent such an attack from happening to avoid rousing the Asgard’s fury. They know they’re no match for the Asgard in terms of firepower.”

Her father’s head ducked briefly and Jacob spoke with his own voice. “I agree,” he said. “Now I’m _not_ saying you should agree to every stipulation of the Treaty without thinking it through very carefully first. Earth should still be able to protect itself should a breach in the Treaty be made.”

“General Carter speaks truly,” Teal’c said. “The Goa’uld cannot be trusted. While they do fear the Asgard,” he tilted his head, “we have all seen what they will do if they think the Asgard are unaware of or unable to prevent an invasion.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Thor’s forgotten Cimmeria,” Daniel said. He held up a finger. “But, I also think the System Lords haven’t forgotten Cimmeria either. If even a few Jaffa escaped through the Gate with Heru’ur, then chances are word’s gotten out that the Asgard are still a force to be taken seriously.”

“Indeed,” Teal’c said calmly.

“Speaking of Heru’ur,” Jacob began.

“Oh boy,” O’Neill groaned, wincing in preparation for more bad news.

Surprisingly, Jacob chuckled. “Actually,” he said, his eyes twinkling merrily, “I think you’ll enjoy this story, O’Neill.”

“Oooh,” Jack said, perking up and rolling his office chair closer to the table in childish eagerness. “I’m all ears.”

Sam allowed herself a smile as her dad took center stage.

“First,” Jacob said, “I have to ask. Daniel,” he said, turning to the former archaeologist and linguist sitting next to Sam. “What do you know about Nephthys in mythology? Particularly in reference to Setesh.”

Daniel sat up, absently nudging his glasses further up his nose. “Well,” he began, “Nephthys was supposedly the sister-wife of Setesh. She was also the sister of Osiris and Isis. She’s not particularly well known, but she is highly respected. She’s often referred to in texts as the Lady of the House, the ‘house’ in question being the temple not the home-house where people live. She also held a place of honor during mummification ceremonies as a protector of death.”

“Death?” O’Neill said dryly.

“Yes,” Daniel said. “Keep in mind, the ancient Egyptians didn’t view death as an end so much as the next chapter of their existence. Like turning a page in a book. Death was just as important and sacred to them as birth and life which,” he held out his hands, “incidentally were represented by her sister Isis.”

He leaned forward and clasped his fingers on the table as he continued speaking. “She’s said to be a protector goddess with powerful magic. She’s actually credited as the sole protector of the bennu bird, the origin of the mythical phoenix or firebird, if you will. She also apparently served as the protector of Horus who we all know as Heru’ur and was a close companion of Isis. Her magic actually helped her sister Isis resurrect Osiris after his death at Setesh’s hands which,” he shrugged, “again, we now know isn’t entirely accurate.”

“Surprise, surprise,” O’Neill muttered just loud enough to hear.

Daniel shot him a look but forged on. “Interestingly enough, she is also credited with accompanying Ra on his nightly treks through the Egyptian equivalent of the underworld just like Set. Or,” he scratched his head, “the version of Set who was seen as a friend and ally of the Pharaoh and protector of the oasis. Anyway, both Nephthys and Set were said to slay the evil serpent Apophis," he glanced significantly at Teal'c who lifted an interested eyebrow, "during Ra’s nightly trip; Nephthys using her magic and Set using his spear.”

Sam’s eyebrows flew up. “Sounds like an interesting woman,” she said.

Her father snorted and her team shot the Tok’ra a look which he dismissed. “Anything else?” Jacob asked.

“Uh, well, that’s pretty much it,” Daniel admitted. “I mean, she’s not someone most deities messed with. Supposedly she could party like Hathor-” Sam didn’t miss O’Neill wince and the flash of disgust in Daniel’s eyes- “but she was at heart a warrior and a protector of the temples and other gods. She’s said to spit venom and fire at anyone who threatened to desecrate the temples or threaten the gods.”

Wow. That’s a lot of _good_ stuff. Surprising for a Goa’uld. So where’s the other side of the coin?

“In Jaffa legend,” Teal’c said, drawing the attention of the room, “Nephthys is closely tied to Isis, Setesh, and Heru’ur. Although bound to Setesh’s service, Nephthys and Isis were comrades. Often engaging in games of strategy and of the mind. She could also meet blades with Heru’ur and hold her own.” He smiled in quiet pride. “It is said that Heru’ur wished to make her his queen but she refused him. Quite vehemently.”

“I’m liking her more already,” O’Neill said. “Which strangely makes me worried.”

Sam glanced at her father who was grinning like a child with a juicy secret to tell. “Well, I can go ahead and say that yes, Nephthys did have some power the likes of which no Goa’uld has ever been able to replicate. Not even Tok’ra High Council-member Garshaw knows what it was; just that it was powerful, deadly, and just as dangerous to Nephthys as it was to others in the vicinity.”

“So like a bomb or something?” Sam asked curiously.

Her father nodded. “That’s the theory,” he said. “Anyway, what little the Tok’ra do know of Nephthys is that she was a queen who took an unusual host. Heru’ur tried to make her his breeding queen, probably in a bid for more power to impress Ra and increase his standing as a System Lord. Nephthys refused, but not until _after_ they had,” he gestured significantly, “relations.”

“Oh god,” O’Neill groaned, rubbing his face with his hands.

Sam tried to hide a smirk. “I’m guessing Heru’ur didn’t take the rejection too well,” she said.

“Not at all,” Jacob said, his grin growing. “Heru’ur challenged Nephthys to a duel. She won and made sure no one ever dared to challenge her like that again.”

“Oh, I think I can see where this is going,” Daniel said, leaning back in his chair and looking for all the world like he didn’t want to listen to this but couldn’t fight back his own morbid curiosity.

Jacob laughed, his voice warping as Selmak joined in. “It was certainly memorable,” the Tok’ra said.

“It was indeed,” Teal’c said, his smile proud and pleased.

“Someone care to elaborate for the class so we can all appreciate this inside joke?” O’Neill asked.

“Jack,” Daniel said slowly, “I don’t think you wanna know.”

“Well, I do,” Sam said eagerly.

”As do I,” General Hammond said, openly curious.

“Thought you might,” her father said to the general and winking at his daughter. He leaned forward so he could rest his forearms on the table and looked Sam right in the eye. “When Heru’ur lost, Nephthys set fire to his head and shamed him in front of everyone with a wound even a sarcophagus couldn’t heal.”

 _Oh_. Sam had to hold her breath and count to ten slowly to fight back the proud laughter that threatened to burst from her mouth.

“Oh, just say it already,” O’Neill said.

“She cut off Heru’ur’s penis,” Teal’c said proudly, not a trace of regret or shyness in his voice. “It is a feat many Jaffa women hold in high regard.”

“I bet,” Sam said, still snickering.

“That’s not even the best part,” Jacob said, looking at O’Neill whose face was slack with something between horrified surprise and proud disgust. “Nephthys may have been a queen, but she only ever had one host that Garshaw could find. And that host was male, not female.”

O’Neill looked like he wanted to crawl back in bed and cry. “Oh goody,” he muttered.


	10. Explain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seto is pleasantly surprised and guilted into giving some long overdue explanations to the geek squad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Ok, so SG-1 was supposed to show up in here but the word count got away from me. So I'm cutting it here and SG-1 will show up in the next chapter. Besides, I think SG-1's a bit busy with the Goa'uld/Asgard/Earth treaty right now from the "Fair Game" episode anyway. So I'll have some mercy on them. ...for now.

Motion flickered just above the rim of his laptop screen and he sighed in mild annoyance. Still, he was curious to see what idiot would dare bother him when it was obvious he wanted to be alone in the crowd. He lift his glacial blue gaze, ready to glare the interloper away, when he blinked in bewilderment.

Well. This certainly wasn’t something he saw every day. Might as well enjoy this while it lasted. He did have to wonder, though, why this was happening.

“What the hell are you doing?” he said in calm, cool tones.

“I’m deeply sorry for causing you trouble, Kaiba,” the brunette bowing deeply at the waist said to the floor. Since Honda’s bleached brown hair was gelled up, he could see the boy’s face. It was scrunched up in humiliation and shame, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

That did not explain why Motou Yugi was also bowing waist deep, his bleached and dyed hair flopping down far enough to hide his face. Secretly, Seto _really_ wanted to take a picture of this for blackmail material. If it were just Honda, he could probably get away with it. But since the Pharaoh reborn was involved too, better to err on the side of safety and just remember this scene forever.

So he adjusted his position, crossed his arms, and leaned back in the faux leather couch positioned against one of the walls of the KaibaCorp display structure and stared at the two Japanese boys. He noticed that the blonde mutt did not join his two friends and- Wait. What was Mokuba doing with them?

…was this one of Mokuba’s interventions? Dear Ra blazing in the sky above, have mercy on Seto’s patience. Or lack thereof.

“I beg your pardon?” he demanded, keeping a firm control on his temper.

“I’m deeply sorry for causing you trouble,” Honda repeated fervently. “I will endeavor to do my best to pay more attention to my surroundings next time. And,” some of the tensions in Honda’s shoulders faded, “thank you for getting me out of there.”

Ah. Well, Seto supposed that would do. He glanced at Yugi. “And what are you bowing for?” he said, trying not to sigh.

“I want to thank you for helping me when I asked,” Yugi said, the golden reverse pyramid of the Millennium Puzzle dangling loosely from his neck. “You didn’t have to. You didn’t have anything to gain from that,” he lifted his head just enough to catch Seto’s eye, “but you still did.” Violet eyes sparkled above a warm smile. “You’re not very good at hiding your big heart, Kaiba.”

How- How _dare_ Yugi _tease_ him like that! Unacceptable. Just for that-

“Is that so?” he purred, slapping his laptop shut and letting it rest on his crossed legs. “Then make up for it.”

Yugi jerked up a bit in surprise. “What?” he gasped. “K-Kaiba wha-”

“Yes sir!” Honda said promptly.

“Honda?!” Yugi cried, staring at his friend.

Good. Yugi was outvoted.

“Yugi,” Seto said before the young Pharaoh could attempt to change Honda’s mind, “your job is to keep a _strict_ eye on Honda at all times. If he has to go to the bathroom,” he lifted an eyebrow, “you go with him. He is not allowed to be alone under any circumstances for the duration of this conference. Is that clear?”

Wide violet eyes sharpened and narrowed in determination. “I can do that,” he said with a firm nod. "I was already-"

“I’m aware you _can_ do that,” Seto said. “Make sure you _do_ do that.” He turned his gaze to Honda who was beginning to straighten his posture as he listened. “Motorcycle boy,” Honda bounced into something akin to a military ready stance, “the toxin you were exposed can't affect you any more.”

Both Yugi and Honda’s eyes widened in surprise.

“The toxin is a genetically engineered, airborne virus. Once the victim is exposed to it, it’s absorbed into every living tissue of the body,” Seto explained, switching to Japanese to avoid any unwanted eavesdroppers. “It takes approximately an hour to fully integrate into the host’s system. The only way to break its hold and make sure it will never resurface, is an electrical shock strong enough to eradicate the virus but weak enough to ensure the victim’s survival. Its main drawback is, once the virus has been dealt with, the victim becomes immune to any further exposure.”

As he spoke, he kept a sharp eye on Jounouchi standing behind Yugi. The mutt had obviously kept his mouth shut about the details of what he’d seen in the compound with Yugi. Something Seto suspected was eating the Pharaoh’s loyal lapdog from the inside out. Betrayal was like that.

"That doesn't sound like much of a drawback," Honda mumbled.

“It is for someone like Seth," Seto said sternly. "I suspected Seth had a weapon of that sort in his arsenal but without confirmation I couldn’t be sure until I saw it's effects first hand." He shrugged. “I’ve dealt with such weapons before, I just never thought I’d see it used again.”

Honda looked thoroughly dumbstruck but Yugi, interestingly enough, was frowning and gazing at Seto as if he’d just seen something he recognized but did not expect to see. There was a faint tug on Seto’s Shadows and, out of curiosity, he tugged right back. Yugi’s eyes bulged in shock and Seto smirked.

Well, well. Perhaps there was some part of the Pharaoh’s memories that remained.

“I… thank you,” Honda said, his shoulders drooped. “For explaining, I mean.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “It was… It was disconcerting not actually knowing what happened.”

Seto frowned. “Did your fellow geeks not explain anything to you?” he said, glancing at Yugi significantly.

Yugi flushed. “I wasn’t really sure how to explain,” he admitted. “I told him everything I saw and heard, but… I get the feeling you deliberately kept me in the dark on this one.” He met Seto’s gaze evenly, then turned to Jounouchi. “Whatever you’re keeping a secret, as long as it doesn’t affect us in future fights, I won’t press.”

“Wise choice,” Seto said, drawing Yugi’s gaze.

There was a hard edge to the shorter boy’s violet that Seto had only seen in duels or 5,000 years ago in a battle for freedom, life, and death. The inexplicable urge to bow twinged the edges of his psyche but he resisted. Now was neither the time nor the place.

But, perhaps a little bit of the truth wouldn’t hurt.

He shifted so the comforting weight of the golden Millennium Rod hooked to his belt flashed briefly in the overhead lights of the Dealer’s Room. As expected, Yugi noticed instantly. His entire demeanor froze, one hand unconsciously lifting to clutch his Millennium Puzzle protectively. When violet eyes returned to Seto’s, they were wide with disbelief and fear? Odd. Not the reaction Seto was anticipating.

He lifted an eyebrow, waiting for Yugi to say something. Silence. Rolling his eyes, Seto uncrossed his legs and stood, clutching his laptop in one hand as he moved to leave the KaibaCorp display. He needed coffee and if Yugi didn’t want to talk now, then he could wait. His need for coffee could not.

He stepped around the couch and approached the stark white temporary structure in the center of the KaibaCorp display. The small room inside was shaped like a pentagon and served as both a private break room for the KaibaCorp employees working the display as well as a secure location to have discussions with customers or potential customers regarding sensitive subject matter. It was also, apparently, _the_ place to leave personal items if the couple bags tucked away by the small portable safe was anything to go by.

Seto sighed and moved to unlock the safe, tucking his laptop in it and locking it back. He locked the door on his way out and handed the key to his attentive little brother.

“You’re in charge,” he said. Mokuba burst into such a blinding smile Seto had to blink to clear his vision. He really didn’t deserve the boy. “Do you want anything from the refreshment table?” he asked.

“Coffee,” Mokuba chirped readily and Seto wondered if he’d accidentally corrupted the boy. “And an ice cream cup?”

Turning, Seto stepped out into the busy walkways separating the blocks of displays, tables, and information booths. He just had to be patient. He could do that. He’d give it five seconds tops.

Three.

Two.

“Kaiba!”

Not the person he expected, but at least _someone_ decided to-

“Wait! Kaiba”

Pausing, Seto turned to see the whole geek squad chasing after him. That… was unexpected. He tucked his hands in his pockets, making sure to keep the Millennium Rod hidden by his trench coat as he did so, and waited for the shorter people to catch up to him.

Yugi was in the lead, his face set in determination, with Jounouchi and Honda taking up the rear. Naturally.

“If you’re going to join me,” Seto said, “then you’re holding your own food. And no, I won’t give you any alcohol.”

He wasn’t surprised to see the geek squad’s faces twist in disgust. They were young. They would learn. Although, Seto glanced at Jounouchi, probably not the mutt. If Seto’s research on one Jounouchi Katsuya was anything to go by, the puppy would avoid alcohol for the rest of his life at all costs.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you about the…” Yugi hesitated, obviously choosing his words with care. “Where did you get that, Kaiba?” he asked, his voice noticeably more authoritative.

“It was given to me by a friend,” Seto answered honestly, turning around and moving down the walkway towards the food.

He eyed the alcohol booth longingly as he passed. Ah, the annoyances of having to pass as a young age so he could stay in a single place for a longer time. He missed the taste of date wine. Though, the strong taste of sake had grown on him over the eons.

“May I ask who?” Yugi pressed, walking quicker to keep pace with Seto’s longer legs.

You. “It doesn’t matter,” he said aloud. “He died a long time ago.”

“Oh,” Yugi murmured, looking stricken. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Looking up at him once more, he asked, “Did you know Pegasus had the-”

“Millennium Eye?” Seto cut in. “No, not at first. I didn’t figure it out until he tried to force me to duel Mokuba’s soulless body.”

“He _what?”_ Yugi cried accompanied by shocked choking noises from behind him.

“Why else do you think I would be stupid enough to agree to duel him on _his_ terms and not mine?” Seto snapped angrily. “I suspected his telepathic ability was limited by distance like most gifts of that nature usually are. That was the whole reason why I designed and built a portable duel disk to begin with. To _keep_ my _distance.”_

Technically, the idea and schematics had already been created before Seto was forced into a coma by the Pharaoh’s second Penalty Game. But the actual proof-of-concept versions he’d brought with him to Duelist Kingdom were all he’d been able to build in a hurry.

“I figured if I stayed out of his range, I could defeat him,” Seto said, his head dipping. “I realized he had the Eye the moment I saw Mokuba’s body. Distance was no longer a factor. If he wanted a duel, then there was no way for me to stay far enough away to avoid his range _and_ duel him at the same time.”

“But you were able to destroy the Blue Eyes White Dragon that demon summoned with your stolen Deck,” Yugi insisted.

“Yeah. We were both there for that,” Honda spoke up. “Mokuba was too, actually. We _all_ thought that was impressive.”

“A combination of my hacking ability, intimate knowledge of that particular Monster,” and all the pain she brought with her, “and a bit of luck” of the Shadowmancy kind.

“So my presence helped out, huh?” Jounouchi taunted, crossing his arms, holding up his head, and thrusting his chest out like an overgrown rooster.

Seto sniffed in disdain. “Not likely.”

Honda snickered. “Burn.”

“Shut up,” Seto heard the puppy mutter.

“Do you know anything about the other Items?” Yugi asked as they finally reached the refreshment table.

Seto eyed the young Pharaoh reborn. “Why?”

“Well, you see,” Yugi grimaced, grabbing a plate to start piling some snacks onto it, “one of my friends has an Item that’s, er, not very nice. If you know what I mean.”

“None of the Items are _nice,”_ Seto said sharply. “Only a fool would think they are. They were created with blood and souls, designed to draw blood and destroy souls, and thrive on the blood and souls of their respective users. They are most certainly _not_ nice.”

He finished filling the second cup of coffee, preparing it the way Mokuba liked before grabbing an ice cream cup from the nearby cooler. Taking the coffees in one hand and the ice cream cup in the other, he turned to face the geek squad. They didn’t look very good. Honda looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be offended or afraid, Jounouchi looked suspicious, and Yugi looked dismayed.

Maybe Seto should have softened the blow. Yugi didn’t remember. He wouldn’t understand how _bad_ the situation they’d lived through had really been. He _couldn’t_ understand. Not without telling him everything, which Seto wasn't going to do.

He glanced at Jounouchi who met and held his gaze with a grim face and steely eyes. However much it galled Seto to admit, the Pharaoh’s lapdog was loyal and honest to a fault. He could see the thousands of unasked questions and untold explanations sealed behind Jounouchi’s eyes. Seto trusted the puppy to keep his mouth shut, unless it compromised Yugi’s safety.  It had almost done so at Duelist Kingdom and then again at Setesh’s compound.

From that track record alone, not taking into account the numerous near-death experiences the Pharaoh had experienced in his past life, Seto knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came out. From his own experience, Seto knew delaying the inevitable tended to strip him of what little control over the situation he may have had. It was a knife point he balanced on. It couldn’t last forever.

Especially now that those military imbeciles had more than likely unearthed the Chappa’ai and dabbled with the Goa’uld for who knows how long. This time it had only be Setesh, a Goa’uld in hiding with very little technology at his back and no Jaffa to enforce his orders. Next time it could be Ra, or Hathor, or Apophis, or Heru’ur, or Osiris and Isis if they ever escaped their banishment.

Heru’ur, Seto wasn’t afraid of. Osiris and Isis, he knew how to handle. He hadn’t been the one to betray them, after all. Apophis, he was not friendly with and was hesitant to face directly without some backing. Facing the wrath of the Goa’uld Ra was out of the question. Not without summoning the kind of power that was just as likely to kill Seto where he stood as kill Ra as well. Hathor was more cunning and manipulative than her consort, but just as deadly. She knew what Seto was and had sworn a vendetta against him for his ‘crimes’ against her favored son Heru’ur.

And those were just the System Lords Seto was familiar with. Now that the Chappa’ai was opened and in active use, any number of Goa’uld could find their way to Earth and wreak havoc. He had to protect the Pharaoh. He’d sworn himself to that duty with an oath bound and witnessed by the Shadows. He didn’t regret it, but he did find it… inconvenient sometimes.

Jounouchi tilted his head. “Look man, it’s either you or me. I can’t do this anymore.”

Like now.

“Do what?” Yugi asked, looking between Jounouchi and Seto.

Seto hated his luck sometimes.

“Not here,” he said briskly, turning with his coffee and ice cream cup in hand and sweeping back down the walkway towards the KaibaCorp display.

If he was going to do this -and no, he did _not_ want to do this- then he was going to do it somewhere he felt safe. Which was _not_ out in the open, but in a public enough place that no one, not even the geek squad, could try anything without someone noticing. Mokuba would be disappointed if Seto went back to his hotel room, but he probably wouldn’t mind if he took a break and spoke to… friends… in the privacy of the KaibaCorp ‘break room.’

Mokuba was watching him approach with open concern and Seto visibly forced himself to relax. He knelt and handed the ice cream and one coffee cup to his little brother before whispering a few quick instructions for Mokuba to carry out while he was busy. His little brother nodded eagerly with a smile that still held hints of worry so Seto mussed the messy black hair. He should probably start trying to convince his brother to cut his hair to a more manageable length.

But for now, “This way,” he said, unlocking the door to the private room and waving the geek squad inside. He glanced back at his brother briefly, before stepping inside and closing and locking the door behind him.

Yugi and Honda had elected to sit at the table in one of the black plastic and metal folding chairs provided by the convention center. Jounouchi, however, was still standing, leaning so his bottom rested on the corner of the table like a physical barrier between Yugi and Seto. Seto did not appreciate the implied warning.

“How much did you tell him?” Seto demanded.

Jounouchi stood firm. “That you and Setesh had a history,” he said, “and you tried to use that to keep him busy while Yugi and I tracked down Honda.”

Seto narrowed his eyes.

“I had to explain the weapon you used on Honda, though,” the mutt admitted, looking a little sheepish. “But you didn’t exactly hide that.”

True.

“I _tried_ to explain the ring-transport-things,” Jounouchi continued, scratching his head, “but I’m not really sure what those were or how they worked so that was,” he shrugged, “a half-assed thing at best.” He straightened. “I told him about that hand device thing, too,” he added. “And that you had one and could use it.”

Damn.

Well, at least it gave him somewhere to start.

Taking a deep breath, Seto moved away from the door and leaned against the wall across from Yugi. This was neutral ground. The table provided him the distance he needed and the protection Jounouchi seemed to believe Yugi needed. He reached down to his right hip, withdrew the golden scepter, and placed it gingerly on the table’s surface.

The wicked blades on either side of the golden orb at the head of the Millennium Rod flashed in the light, framing the Eye of Ra emblazoned on the center. By contrast, the slender shaft of the Rod was about as long as Seto’s forearm and deceptively simple in design. The Rod was the weapon of choice for a warrior priest, much like Seto.

“You know what this is,” Seto said, watching every flicker of emotion as it passed over Yugi’s face. “Do you know what the other Items are? Where they are? Who wielded them? Their purposes?” He narrowed his eyes. “And why no one but their true, chosen bearers may ever lay claim to them without suffering an excruciating death?”

Yugi stiffened, his face full of pain and sadness. Curious. Why sadness?

“You have some idea then,” Seto said, tucking his hands in his pockets and relaxing against the wall. This could take a while. “I can’t tell you everything because you don’t remember enough for it to make sense.” The startled expression in Yugi’s eyes made Seto lift an eyebrow and continue. “I’m aware of your memory problems,” he tilted his head, “to an extent. Telling you too much now could trigger something none of us are prepared to deal with yet, which is why I have to be careful and watch my words. If this bothers you, then we’re done here.”

“Now wait just a-”

“However,” Seto said, steamrolling over Jounouchi's indignant cry, “if you are ready to listen to what I can tell you and accept that there are some things I cannot or will not tell you until a later date, then I’ll do my best to explain what I can.”

Violet eyes that should never have been forced to see so much pain in either life time, hardened in grim determination. “I’m ready,” Yugi said, nodding.

Seto held Yugi’s gaze for several long seconds before glancing at Jounouchi. The Pharaoh’s lapdog mirrored his friend’s stubbornness. One look at Honda, and Seto knew he couldn’t get out of this.

“Look,” Honda said suddenly. “If it makes you feel better, you can tell Yugi the details later after Jounouchi and I have left.”

“After we _what now?”_ Jounouchi cried, staring at his friend in betrayed surprise. “No. No way in hell I’m leaving now.”

“Joey,” Honda said. “I want to know what really happened while I was… with the cult.” He swallowed over his discomfort. “But what if-”

“They’re staying.”

Surprised, both Honda and Jounouchi looked down at Yugi who sat straight and strong in his seat, his gaze fixed on Seto.

“They’re staying, Kaiba,” Yugi said again. “I hope you understand.”

Seto’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. Then know this.” He glanced at the walls of their little room and the distinct lack of a ceiling above them save for the Dealer’s Room ceiling far above the display. “Anything we say in here can’t be overheard by anyone else. But, if you scream, they will hear and this conversation will be over. Is that clear?”

Yugi nodded, mirrored by Jounouchi and Honda after a brief hesitation and suspicious glance at each other.

Seto sighed. “Then tell me, Yugi,” his eyes flashed gold and his voice warped, “what do you know of the Egyptian Gods?”


	11. Truth Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yugi begins to see the bigger picture and it's not pleasant and Seto needs the comfort of an old family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I've been working on this for two days and it fought me the whole way. I finally reached a version that I'm satisfied with. My back is killing me though. ^^; As per usual, I've roughly edited this tonight but I'll hardcore edit this tomorrow when I wake up. 
> 
> Since I have Jounouchi being half-American and half-Japanese, I'd be stunned if he hadn't heard of the _Animorphs._ The books and short-lived TV show literally took over the life of almost everyone I knew (me included) in the 90s and early 2000s. I figure that was something he'd just devour like a goofball, fanboy he is. No need to understand anything about the _Animorphs_ for this. But it is interesting to note the canon enemy of the _Animorphs_ is suspiciously similar in appearance and behavior as the Goa'uld in SG-1. I wonder if anyone else has realized that and written a crossover fanfic for those fandoms?
> 
> Random fact, I wrote this whole dang thing while listening to "Kyrie" by Mr. Mister on loop. Two days. That song. On loop. I'm not ok.
> 
>  **Translations:**  
>  *kel vak \- "dismissed"  
> *Keest'ra \- a call when lost or distressed (i.e. 'help')  
> *Neith \- Egyptian goddess of war and weaving  
> *Re \- "come"

His eyes glowed. Kaiba’s eyes _glowed!_ It was as if someone ignited a torch behind Kaiba Seto’s eyes that shone brilliantly for two seconds before dimming back to smoldering cinders the shade of a clear, autumn sky. It wasn’t natural and it most definitely wasn’t _human._

“What by Ra’s holy fire _are you?!”_

The words flew from his mouth but they weren’t his own. Yugi could feel the spirit of the Puzzle pressing close to his mind to the point he could barely tell where he ended and Yami began. It was comforting and terrifying at the same time. Yami’s ability to manipulate Yugi’s body had always been a point of curiosity and concern for both of them. But it did have its uses, like now.

Yugi couldn’t speak but Yami certainly could. “Speak Kaiba!” Yami demanded. “What are you?”

Kaiba merely leaned back against the wall and regarded them with a mild expression. “You see?” he said in a calm voice. “If you could remember, you would know what I am and you would not be reacting as you are now.”

Something ghosted across Kaiba’s calm features so fast Yugi barely caught it. But he would recognize that emotion anywhere. He’d seen it often enough in his own face over the past year and a half. Ever since his blackouts began and people he knew began going insane or getting hurt or outright dying… Ever since he solved the Millennium Puzzle, he’d begun to look at himself in the mirror with that emotion. When he first confessed his fears of there being _someone else_ inside of him, someone _scary_ , to his friends Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu, he’d worn that emotion like a heavy cape he couldn’t shed.

Only his friend’s reassurances and steady presence kept him from succumbing to it wholly and completely. His friends, the one thing he’d wished for when he finished the Millennium Puzzle, saved him from his heartache. Did Kaiba have anyone to save him from his?

Yugi felt Yami flinch at Kaiba’s jab and start to retaliate, but the next person to speak startled everyone.

“Both of you, relax!”

Eyes wide, Yami and Yugi both turned to where Jounouchi stood, hands in his pockets and slouched in a casual stance. Jounouchi nodded to Honda behind Yugi and said calmly, “You’re scaring him.”

Oh! He and Yami turned to Honda and Yugi felt the spirit’s genuine worry for their friend roll over him like a soothing blanket. It warmed Yugi’s heart to see how far the spirit had come.

But Honda was clearly not doing as well as Yami. Honda’s dark brown eyes were wide in his too pale face and he’d pressed himself up against the wall, as far away from Kaiba as he could get in the little room. He wasn’t saying anything but his eyes were screaming in silent fear and _recognition?_

“You’ve seen this before,” Yami murmured, echoing Yugi’s thoughts.

 _:Judging from his reaction, I’d say back in the cult,:_ Yugi whispered. _:And if that’s the case, then-:_

“So have I,” Jounouchi spoke up.

_:Called it.:_

“Restrain yourself, Yugi,” Kaiba said sternly, his oddly warped voice drawing their gazes. “I made your lapdog promise not to tell you. I’m very good at making people obey me.”

 _:That’s not intimidating at all,:_ Yami thought, earning himself a brush of gentle patience from Yugi. “Why?” he asked aloud. _:More importantly-:_ “Will Honda be alright?” he asked.

Kaiba tilted his head and regarded Honda thoughtfully. “It’s likely he remembers some of his time under the influence Setesh’s nish’ta,” he said. His forehead creased in contemplation. “It is unusual for someone like him to remember something so specific, however. Usually, victims remember things in their dreams where glowing eyes and an unnatural voice are normal.”

Something danced in Kaiba’s eyes and Yami blinked.

 _:Was that… a joke?:_ Yugi murmured. _:Did Kaiba just make a joke?:_

 _:It would appear we know less about him than I thought,:_ Yami agreed.

“You have a twisted sense of humor, man,” Jounouchi griped, shaking his head. “Honda,” he called to his still petrified friend. “I’m serious. It’s okay. He’s not gonna hurt you. You can relax. Trust me.”

Slowly, Honda inched away from the wall and approached the flimsy metal and plastic table, keeping his eyes on Kaiba. Everyone waited while Honda attempted to put words to his fears. Both Yami and Yugi noticed how outwardly calm and patient Kaiba seemed as they waited. It was almost like a parent waiting for a child to ask the question they _really_ wanted to know the answer to but were afraid to ask because they knew they probably wouldn’t like the answer.

Finally, Honda swallowed thickly, squared his shoulders, and asked, “Who are you?”

“Kaiba Seto,” Kaiba replied. Then, after a moment of silence, “but I used to go by the name Set. Though I think you’ll probably remember calling me Neph-”

“Nephthys,” Honda said, nodding. “I do remember that.”

Kabia rolled his shoulders in what looked suspiciously like discomfort. Hmm. Maybe this was just as uncomfortable for him as it was for Honda, Kaiba was just better at hiding it.

“You always called Seth, Setesh,” Honda said, his confidence slowly beginning to show in his words. “I vaguely remember thinking you didn’t like him.”

Now _that_ was a very Kaiba-esque sneer. “I don’t,” Kaiba sniffed. “I _despise_ his existence.”

 _:That is a lot of hatred,:_ Yami murmured. _:Jounouchi was right. Kaiba and Seth_ ** _do_** _have a history. I’d wager it’s a rather_ ** _colorful_** _history too.:_

 _:I never doubted Jounouchi,:_ Yugi said.

 _:Neither did I,:_ Yami replied. _:But it’s always good to have solid proof if available.:_

Yugi nudged the spirit with what could pass as a playful poke before slipping back in control of him body. However, the moment he did, Kaiba’s attention locked onto him with a startling intensity that caught Yugi off guard.

Dark eyebrows furrowed over sharp, blue eyes as Kaiba stepped away from the wall and rested both hands on the table. His gaze never left Yugi’s for an instant.

“To whom am I speaking?” he asked.

Yugi flinched, feeling Yami’s own shock close to the forefront of his mind.

“It’s Yug’,” Jounouchi answered before they could. “You can tell by the eyes.”

_:Why is he-:_

Yugi quickly soothed the spirit’s ruffled feathers and calmed his mind. “It’s true,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Kaiba hissed.

“I’m not,” Yugi said firmly, holding Kaiba’s gaze.

Kaiba glared, then straightened, scooped up the Millennium Rod, and swept towards the door. “I don’t have the time to deal with liars,” he snapped, the inhuman warping in his voice vanishing as he spoke.

“He’s not lying, Kaiba,” Jounouchi said, deliberately stepping between the CEO and the door. “Yugi’s here. But _Yami_ is also here. Yugi’s like his host.”

Kaiba stilled, glancing over his shoulder at Yugi suspiciously.

“Yami is the spirit of the Puzzle,” Yugi said, feeling the cool gold of the reverse pyramid shape against his palm. “He’s been here since I solved it. We can switch back and forth if we want to. It was the only way we could defeat Pegasus when he used the Millennium Eye to read our minds and changed our duel to a Shadow Game.”

Yugi hesitated before he continued. He didn’t like remembering this. Every time he did, he could feel Yami remember as well and the ensuing rush of guilt and crippling fear was almost physical in its intensity.

“I almost didn’t make it,” Yugi admitted softly, dropping his gaze to the Millennium Puzzle, feeling Yami squirm self-consciously. “Every time I took over to play a card, it cost me. I lost consciousness at one point. I don’t remember much after that until the game was over.”

 _:I never would have won without your help, Yugi,:_ Yami whispered, pride and relief in surging over Yugi’s mind. _:That last move was masterful, and it was of_ ** _your_** _making. Not mine.:_

“We were able to block Pegasus power when Yugi and Yami couldn’t switch minds anymore,” Honda said suddenly, drawing their attention. “Me, Jounouchi, and Anzu, I mean. I don’t really know how to explain it, but we felt it when Yugi lost consciousness and we were able to keep Pegasus out of Yugi’s mind.”

Kaiba turned to face them, crossing his arms, the Rod’s bladed head resting against his bicep. “All of you?” he asked, glancing at Jounouchi. “How?”

“How is your voice back to normal?” Honda countered.

 _:Good question,:_ Yami added.

“How about this,” Yugi said peaceably. “You explain what you meant about the Egyptian Gods, and we’ll tell you everything that happened at Duelist Kingdom.”

“Not good enough,” Kaiba said curtly. “I want to know about the time before that as well.” His eyes narrowed. “You cast not one, but _two_ Penalty Games on me. Someone who loses consciousness during a simple Shadow Game couldn’t possibly manage a feat like that.”

Yugi grimaced but sighed. “That wasn’t me,” he reluctantly admitted. “It was Yami. Both times.” He frowned. “And what do you mean by ‘simple’? There was nothing _simple_ about that Shadow Game.”

“On the contrary,” Kaiba said. “It _was_ simple. Pegasus initiated the Shadow Game while you were in the middle of a duel, correct?” Yugi nodded. “Did he change any of the rules of the duel? State any additional rules or stipulations?”

Yugi shook his head. “Nothing except that summoning took energy and if I ran out of energy, I lost the Game and if I lost the Game,” he clutched the Millennium Puzzle, “I lost my soul just like I lost Grandpa’s, yours, and Mokuba’s.”

“Then it was a simple Shadow Game,” Kaiba stated firmly. “Pegasus could use the Eye, true, but I doubt he fully understood it or had access to all of its powers. The rules of a duel are clear to any true duelist. There was no need for him to restate them, especially when the Shadow Game was enacted in the middle of one. In that case, Pegasus’ Shadow Game would simply use the rules of the duel already in progress at that point as a reference.”

“But the drain on my energy-”

“Is typical,” Kaiba said, cutting Yugi off. “A Shadow Game draws from the players’ souls. Every move you make, every Spell you cast, Trap you set, or Monster you summon drains some of your Ba from you. If a new, untrained player is allowed to participate without any buffers to protect them from the soul drain of a Shadow Game and are unable to continue playing to completion, or they lose the Game, more often than not they die.” Blue eyes glanced at Jounouchi before returning to Yugi. “You were lucky,” he added.

“Lucky?” Yugi murmured. _:I certainly didn’t_ ** _feel_** _lucky.:_

“You weren’t alone,” Kaiba said. “Your puppy,” Yugi winced at Jounouchi’s annoyed snarl, “seems to have the favor of Lady Luck. Honda has a sharp mind that can remember details even after being subjected to nish’ta. Details most people would never be able to recover except under intense hypnotism. That girl, Anzu, seems to have a form of clairvoyance with the unique ability to know when the people she cares about are in danger. You all have that to an extent,” he said, looking at all three of them, “but Honda and Jounouchi’s focus is locked on you, Yugi, while hers in more general.”

Kaiba sighed. “The fact you managed to gather such a unique group of people into your inner ring of confidence is more than just coincidence,” he said. “The Millennium Items choose their bearers and, believe me, they are picky. Once they find the person they want as their own, they hold on tighter than a star’s gravity. They don’t just let go.”

Kaiba hesitated, then tossed the Millennium Rod to a stunned Yugi who just barely managed to catch it. The moment he did, however, he had the distinct feeling he wasn’t wanted. He felt dirty and itchy like he was covered in thick, smelly, drying mud that would take forever to get off. Or like he was drowning in an oil slick. It was disgusting and did not belong.

Wait. Those weren’t Yugi’s emotions. Those things were coming from the Rod _itself._ But how?

“You feel that?” Kaiba said lowly. “It’s aware of you, Yugi. It doesn’t like you, but it tolerates your presence. The _only_ reason it tolerates you is because it knows who you are and knows you have no desire to keep it.” He held out his hand. “Now, give it back to me.”

Yugi did just that as quickly as he could and the feeling of disgust vanished abruptly. Bewildered, he flexed his hands, half expecting to find a thin, slippery film where the imaginary oil or mud used to be.

“The Millennium Items are sentient, but not like you and me,” Kaiba said. “They want what they want, they are what they are, and they choose who they choose. They cannot be changed. They simply are. Each Item has a purpose. Separate, they are powerful and deadly. Together, wielded in tandem by their seven chosen bearers, they are invincible.”

His eyes flashed gold again. “With these, a great man once drove those who had the audacity to set themselves up as gods and enslave the Human race off the face of the Earth. He won, but at a high cost. He didn’t survive the feat.”

Huh. There was the sadness again. It was there but buried so deep that it almost hurt to see its remnants in Kaiba’s eyes. Yugi had only seen sadness like that in his mother’s eyes when something reminded her of Yugi’s father, or when Grandpa reminisced about his wife who died before Yugi was born. It was the sadness of someone who knew the pain of loss first hand. Which meant Kaiba…

“You knew him,” Yugi whispered.

Surprise, resignation, then exhaustion. “I did,” Kaiba said, somehow holding himself up despite the shadow that seemed to fall over his form. “He was a good man. Much better than I deserved.”

Oh. “Did you love him?” Yugi asked.

And there was a more Kaiba-like glare. “Not like that,” the CEO grumbled in annoyance. “He was my… We were close friends,” he said.

Yugi didn’t miss the change of words, but he didn’t press Kaiba on it. The fact he’d gotten the CEO to talk this much about personal things was impressive enough.

“I’m sorry.”

It was wholly insufficient, but it was all Yugi could offer. Judging from Kaiba’s shallow nod and downcast eyes, it was enough.

“These ‘false gods’,” Yugi said, changing the subject to something less depressing, “where were they driven to?”

A smirk wormed its way onto Kaiba’s lips and Yugi bit back a relieved smile. This seemed to be safer, more familiar territory.

“Space.”

Um…

“Kaiba,” Yugi said, smiling crookedly, “I was being serious.”

“So was I.”

Um???

“You mean like outer space?” Yugi said flatly. “As in _aliens_ from outer space?”

Kaiba’s smirk grew. “I’d show you, but I have a rather powerful survival instinct. Besides, I like this host. I’d hate to lose it. Especially after all the effort I put into it.”

“Host?” Yugi felt himself and Yami ask at the same time.

Interestingly enough, Kaiba tilted his head. “Is Yami there now?” he asked.

Yugi blinked. “You can sense him?”

Absently, Kaiba nodded. “Now that I know what to look for, yes,” he said.

“So,” Honda said suddenly, raising his hand like a schoolboy, “is it just me, or are you deliberately avoiding the elephant in the room?”

 _“Two_ elephants, my friend,” Jounouchi corrected. “Two elephants. Aliens,” he held up one finger, “and the host thing,” he held up a second finger, “which you mentioned to me before,” he said, pointing at Kaiba “but never bothered to explain. Then or now.”

Kaiba hesitated, eventually avoiding their gazes entirely. “Do you remember those people who helped us escape?” he asked. “The ones who killed Setesh?”

“Yeah,” Honda said. “I mean, I didn’t actually _see_ them kill him, but I believe you. Why do you keep calling him that, by the way?”

“Because that’s his real name. Seth was just a pseudonym,” Kaiba said, dismissing the question.

“Like Nephthys.” Kaiba glared viciously at him and Honda quickly raised both hands in surrender. “Okay! Okay! Not using that name again. Sorry!”

“He’s an alien,” Jounouchi said without preamble, sticking his thumb at Kaiba. “So’s that Setesh dude and one of the guys who got us out of that cult. The blonde chick was the alien’s kid which is a thought I am _still_ trying to get out of my head.”

“You’re disgusting,” Kaiba growled. “And you’re wrong. She’s not the alien’s daughter. There’s no way that’s possible. It’s more likely her father was taken as a host.” He paused, thinking over what he'd just said. “Which does bring to mind another question I mean to ask them when we meet them again.”

 _:Host?:_ Yami wondered silently.  
  
“You think we will?” Yugi asked.  
  
“It’s likely,” Kaiba said grimly.  
  
“But they were only there for the cult and Seth,” Honda said, his expression unsure. “Why would they go after us? You don't think that,” he glanced around at the walls nervously, "they'll arrest me, er, us, just because we were there, do you?"  
  
“You and Yugi? Doubtful. You were obviously victims. If anyone else remembers anything, including that military strike team, they would all vouch for your innocence,” Kaiba said. “However, me, and maybe you,” he added turning to Jounouchi, "they might. I’d be surprised if they didn’t remember me. They freed themselves of Setesh's nish'ta sometime between when I spoke to the woman in the hallway and Setesh attacked me. They were aware of themselves when Setesh and I fought. They know my face. I don’t _think_ they saw yours, but they did hear me mention a First Prime."

“First Prime,” Honda murmured with a frown as if trying to remember something from a long time ago. “I called you First Prime,” he said, pointing to Jounouchi. “When you were dragging me all over the compound.”  
  
“Had to keep you busy, track Yugi down, and get the lay of the place,” Jounouchi said with a shrug. “First Prime is just a title. Something like an alien Prime Minister, I guess.” He turned back to Kaiba and demanded, “You _fought_ that crazy bastard? Alone? I thought you were just going to _talk_ with him. No wonder everything went to hell so fast.”

Kaiba bristled, his blue eyes narrowing in fury. “Would you talk peacefully with someone who was threatening to strip you of everything that made you _you?”_ he hissed viciously. “Your name, your freedom, your independence, your personality, _everything_ , until you were nothing but a helpless tool in their hands doing whatever they commanded and wishing you could just slit your own throat and end it? And then have him almost _succeed_ in doing just that when, by all rights, it should _not_ have been _fucking possible?”_ His glacial eyes glowed brilliant gold. “You bet your skinny ass I fought back.”

Jounouchi had retreated so his back pressed against the wall under Kaiba’s verbal onslaught. Visibly reining in his temper, his face smoothing over from hateful fury to cool, restrained disdain, Kaiba stepped back, clutching the Millennium Rod. Twirling it effortlessly, he slipped it through a loop strapped to his belt and began tapping the bladed orb absently in the heavy silence.

“I don’t understand,” Yugi said, hoping to ease the tension and draw Kaiba’s attention away from his friend. “What you said just now. It’s like… Could Seth steal your soul?”

“No,” Kaiba said with a sigh. “Thank Ra. As far as I know, Setesh was never aware of that being a remote possibility. Most people don’t know that’s possible outside of purely religious contexts.” He paused. _“Some_ religious contexts anyway,” he added.

“Like I said before,” Jounouchi said, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Alien cult leader. Take me with you!” he said dramatically to the ceiling. Then frowned and glared at Kaiba. “You’re distracting us again. Host. What is it?”  
  
“It sounds like a parasite,” Honda said, crossing his arms and eyeing Kaiba suspiciously. “Like a tapeworm has a host.”  
  
Kaiba crossed his arms and said, “I’d rather not talk about it.” His expression dared Honda to press the issue.  
  
Jounouchi scoffed. “Come on, dude,” he complained. “You look normal. I mean, your skin’s darker than most Japanese people, yeah, but that’s not unusual. Besides, everyone knows you and Mokuba were adopted by that big shot Gozaburo. So you’re obviously no Roswell gray.” He shrugged. “So what are you? Shapeshifter like that Justice League guy from the comics? Some kind of real-life Yeerk brain-controlling parasite from Ani..morphs…?”  
  
“I don’t speak idiot,” Kaiba said, adopting an aloof manner. “Try talking instead of barking, mutt.”

“Kaiba,” Yugi groaned, his shoulders drooping as he waited for inevitable explosion from his blonde friend. But it never came. Instead of lashing out in anger like Jounouchi usually did, Yugi was surprised to see his blonde friend’s face go slack with surprised comprehension tinged with fear.  
  
“Host,” Jounouchi murmured. “Yeerks took hosts. They walked, talked, and acted like humans, but they were being controlled. They had no free will. The person they had been was suppressed while the Yeerk took over. Like a parasite taking over a host.”

That sounded a bit fantastical. But Yugi had seen crazier things. It still sounded a bit farfetched, even for Jounouchi. Except Kaiba made no move to correct him. The CEO just stood silent, staring at nothing in particular.

“I’m right, aren’t I,” Jounouchi said softly. “That’s what you are. Not a Yeerk, I mean, but something similar.”  
  
The roar of the crowd just beyond the temporary walls of the little KaibaCorp display structure seemed like an endless roll of thunder in the ensuing silence. Yugi didn’t know what a Yeerk-thing was. He’d never even heard of the word before. Neither had Yami. Even Honda who stood next to Yugi looked somewhat confused. But he had a good idea from Jounouchi’s damning description.

“That’s why you don’t want to talk about it,” Jounouchi said. His brown eyes were dark with grim understanding. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That’s what Setesh was too, and that woman’s dad.” He frowned. “She could use that hand device too. Was she-“  
  
“No,” Kaiba said, cutting him off. “She was once, but she isn’t anymore. I don’t know _how._ Separation, through natural death or forced extraction, is always a death sentence for the host.” His forehead creased in worried confusion. “I don’t know how she survived.”  
  
“But she did.” Jounouchi raked his fingers through his hair and held onto the back of his neck, obviously stressed. “Maybe you can ask her-”

“And allow myself to be forcefully extracted to be experimented on or tortured while my host dies without me to keep it alive and functioning?” Kaiba snapped, some of the anger he’d kept under control slipping out as he met Jounouchi’s brown eyes. “There is no one else here except for me. There never was. I can leave my host for a short time as long as I do so freely and have easy access back. But I can never leave it for an extended period of time without risking it dying.”

Brown eyes hardened. “Your _host_ is a _person,”_ Jounouchi argued. “Can’t you just…” he gestured vaguely, “let him out to talk for a bit? Some fresh air or something?”

“You don’t get it!” Kaiba roared, taking full advantage of his height to loom over Jounouchi. “There is _no one_ here but me. The person who was here died. He died 5,000 years ago before he was even old enough to have a complete sense of self _let alone_ a fully developed consciousness. I wasn’t given a choice of host. I was implanted when I was barely mature enough to handle controlling a host let alone make a choice like that. When I entered, I did what instinct told me to do: _survive._ The host died in every way that mattered leaving me alone in here. There is no one to suppress because it’s _just me!_ It has _always_ been just me!”

Yugi could barely breathe. As a spirit, Yami had no need to breathe, but the mind-numbing shock Yugi could feel meshing with his own mind was just as real and intimate as his own. Especially when it so closely mirrored his own horrified comprehension. He’d followed every word Kaiba said, but it just didn’t seem real. It was too fantastical.

His fingers brushed the cool gold of the Millennium Puzzle and doubt began to filter into his mind. It was fantastical, but it wasn’t unbelievable. In just the short year and a half since Yugi solved the Puzzle, he’d seen things, done things that he’d only ever read about in manga and seen in movies. Soul stealing gold eyeballs seemed much more unrealistic than aliens. Parasitic aliens who controlled people and were, if Kaiba was to be believed, 5,000 years old was at least science based. Relatively speaking.  
  
Kaiba seemed just as surprised by his own outburst as everyone else. His eyes were so wide Yugi could make out a ring of white surrounding the blue irises. His face was pale and haunted. He looked like the moment he realized he couldn’t defeat Pegasus at Duelist Kingdom. Like he’d lost everything and knew there was no way to get it back, no way around the inevitable, no way to win, no way to survive.

Then he straightened so he stood ramrod straight and his face shuttered, purging any hint of emotion other than aloof disdain. How long had it taken for him to perfect that? Yugi was almost afraid to think about it.

Turning the handle, Kaiba pulled the door open. “Get out,” he commanded.

Stunned, Yugi didn’t move fast enough to suit Kaiba.

“Kel vak!” the CEO snapped in a voice long familiar with giving orders that were expected to be obeyed. “All of you.”

Yugi didn’t have to know what those words meant to understand what Kaiba wanted. Yami seemed to understand the words though and it hurt to be treated so coldly. It was as if they were starting over at the beginning, strangers with no history of dueling, rivalry, or growth and potential friendship. Dismissed. Kaiba had dismissed them. A part of Yugi wondered if the CEO was dismissing them from just the KaibaCorp display or from his life altogether.

Jounouchi and Honda stepped out first leaving Yugi to take up the rear. But he couldn’t leave it like this. Something deep in his heart warned him that if he did, their relationship would never be repaired. He was afraid and confused, yes. But he didn’t want to lose Kaiba. Not now.

“Kaiba,” he said, stopping in the doorway to look up at the CEO’s unreadable eyes. “Set,” he said, noting the faintest hint of surprise and an even fainter flicker of hope in Kaiba’s eyes. “I trust you,” he said gently. “I don’t understand everything, but I do trust you.”

The eerie blankness in Kaiba’s eyes was still present, but the tiny flicker of hope was visible in the way Kaiba’s brow smoothed ever so slightly.

“You haven’t tried to hurt us,” Yugi said, “you haven’t lied to us, and you helped us knowing you wouldn’t get anything out of it. Just because I asked.” Yugi’s smile was small but genuine. “Even if you are a- a Yeerk-thing.”  
  
It was barely noticeable, but Yugi could see the hints of tension drift away from Kaiba’s form. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Just when Yugi was about to step out of the doorway, Kaiba spoke. It was hard to hear over the roar of the people in the Dealer’s Room but Yugi heard it clearly nonetheless.

“It’s Goa’uld. We’re called Goa’uld.”

The door shut silently leaving them standing out in the KaibaCorp display alone. But Yugi still smiled because he hadn’t lost Kaiba. There was still hope.

* * *

Behind the clouds, the sun was setting across the Puget Sound. Kaiba couldn’t bring himself to appreciate it. At least it wasn’t drizzling anymore. It would start again soon, though. He had a small window to work with and he had no way of knowing if any of them were here or not. They may not be.

He’d left the display in Mokuba’s capable hands so he could retreat to his hotel room and recover. To think his walls, thousands of years in the making, could be so thoroughly shattered by an obnoxious dog and the face of the man he served without reservation, but who didn’t know him. Every time he looked at Yugi and saw the lack of recognition and companionship, it hurt. It hurt more than he realized.

“Keest’ra,” he whispered into the cool breeze.

His fingers brushing the smooth gold of the Millennium Rod. His Shadows thrummed as if a tuning fork had been struck and thrust into their midst. It was a call he rarely made, choosing to let his children come to him should they wish. But he needed them now. He needed them.

“Neith,” he murmured, pouring his turmoil into his Shadows to fuel them and aid him in his summons. “Neith, re.”

It took a while, but the relief he felt when familiar brown feathers speckled with white fluttered into view. When razor sharp talons latched onto his sleeved arm, he pulled the falcon close and buried his nose in her feathers and sought relief in the sense of naquadah in the bird’s veins. She was one of his and she would never judge him. She wasn’t Kisara or his mother, both long lost and beyond his reach, but she was his and that’s all that mattered right now.


	12. Briefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam gets to nerd out and Daniel has a couple realizations, not all of them good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Ok. Missed updating yesterday because I updated my VLD fic _Druid in Blue_ instead. Now, I'm exhausted, it's been a long day, and this chapter fought me tooth an nail. I've given it a rough edit and will deep edit it tomorrow, as per usual. In the meantime, enjoy~

“So that’s Nirrti,” O’Neill muttered as he watched the traitorous Goa’uld be forcibly taken through the Gate by the other two System Lords Cronus and Yu. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Not impressed.”

Daniel shrugged. “Well, at least we have the Treaty now. That’s all that matters.”

“And Maj. Carter can use a Goa’uld healing device,” Teal’c added, glancing respectfully at his blonde teammate. “An ability I believe will be of much use.”

Sam nodded and rolled her shoulders self-consciously. “Let’s hope so,” she agreed.

Teal’c gazed at her for a moment longer before looking back up at the Stargate just as the wormhole disengaged. Perhaps the Jaffa was aware of how uncomfortable her ability to use Goa’uld devices made her feel. Jolinar may have been a Tok’ra, but she still took Sam without consent. All Sam could do was find a way to use her Goa’uld given abilities for something that could help her friends. It was the only way to heal.

“Penny for your thoughts, Major?” O’Neill asked, clearly aware of her inner turmoil without even looking.

“I don’t think they’re worth that much,” she said, shooting O’Neill a wry grin.

“Oh.” The colonel actually looked a bit disappointed. “Well, I guess I get to keep my penny.”

Despite her mood, Sam still found herself huffing a laugh. Eager to change the subject, she said, “Actually sir, I didn’t want to say anything before in case it offended our guests,” she glanced significantly at the now inactive Gate.

“Who are so easily offended,” O’Neill said, nodding. “Did I tell you saying ‘hello’ offended them?”

This time even Teal’c lips twitched in what could be a smile.

“I think I may have found Nephthys, sir,” Sam said, and yes, she was now the center of three very surprised and interested gazes.

“You did?” Daniel asked, looking less eager and more apprehensive.

The major nodded. “With your permission, sir,” she said to the colonel, “I took the liberty of putting together what I have in the briefing room.”

O’Neill smiled. “Well, what are we waiting for? Always ready to go snake hunting.”

Daniel opened his mouth to say something before ultimately deciding against it. Probably for the best.

While Col. O’Neill went to inform General Hammond of her findings, Daniel and Teal’c made themselves comfortable in the briefing room overlooking the ‘Gate Room. Sam went to work setting up her presentation. Since she hadn’t directly been involved in the Treaty negotiations progress and preferred to keep her distance from the Goa’uld, she’d put her unexpected downtime to use. By the time Gen. Hammond and O’Neill joined them, she was ready.

“Whenever you’re ready, Major,” her senior commanding officer said, startling her.

She looked up and nodded respectfully to the grandfathery man. “Yes sir.” Taking a deep breath, she began. “Based on the information we got from Dad and the Tok’ra, we know that even though Nephthys is a queen Goa’uld, he prefers a male host. Judging from our encounter with him at Seth’s compound, we can assume he hasn’t changed his preferences.”

“So, I took that into account and began searching for anyone matching Nephthys’ current description in the databases I had access to,” she continued. “I used Daniel’s method of tracking down Seth to narrow the results.”

“Which was?” the general asked, resting his arms on the table and listening closely.

“We know Nephthys is a Goa’uld,” Daniel spoke up, “and the Goa’uld enjoy power, worship, being the center of attention on some level,” he gestured vaguely, “you get the idea.”

Sam nodded. “Right. Unfortunately, unlike Daniel’s search for Seth, there were no results of any cults to Nephthys or something similar spanning through time.” She shook her head in remembered exasperation. “However, it did help me narrow down the results for Nephthys’ current occupation. Turns out, there aren’t as many people in positions of power who are under thirty and have both brown hair and blue eyes.”

“But still too many to feasibly sort through, I’m assuming,” Jack said. Sam nodded and bit back a smile when the colonel grimaced in sympathy.

“That’s why I added something else to the list of filters,” she said. “Now both Teal’c and the Tok’ra claim Nephthys had a power that no Goa’uld could replicate.” She turned to Teal’c for confirmation.

“That is correct, Maj. Carter,” the Jaffa said, nodding gravely. “It is said Nephthys could induce an intense fear in his victims, force people to obey him, and call down winged lightning if he wished.”

Sam nodded, her mind coming up with several possible explanations for such phenomena.

“Winged lightning?” O’Neill repeated in dry disbelief.

“That is the story,” Teal’c said simply.

“So maybe a weapon of some kind?” Daniel offered. “I mean, based on the phrase ‘winged,’ I’m assuming the weapon was probably airborne.”

“Like a UAV,” Hammond offered.

“That’s what I think,” Sam said. “We know that the Goa’uld ribbon device can create intense pain and a fear response in their victims, the Goa’uld nish’ta both Seth and Hathor used could evoke obedience of a sort, and we’ve seen what the Asgard motherships are capable of.”

“You’re saying you think this Nephthys may have a weapon of mass destruction just lying around somewhere?” the general asked seriously.

“I doubt it,” Sam said to her team’s relief. “It’s more likely he’s currently in a similar position that Seth was in. Hiding out with just enough Goa’uld technology to get by.”

“But he _may_ have had a weapon of mass destruction just lying around,” O’Neill said.

She nodded. “It’s possible,” she admitted.

“That’s not the best news I’ve heard all day,” the colonel said casually.

“Agreed,” Hammond said before looking back up to her. “Please continue, Major.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. “I ran with the idea that Nephthys’ power was connected to technology and decided to narrow down the results to only people who were involved in the field of science or technology. I got a hit.”

She clicked her remote and stepped out of the white light from the projector so the image of a young man with short brown hair and piercing blue eyes was clearly visible to everyone in the room. He wore a pale blue button up shirt and a dark blue tie underneath a professional white tailored suit. He stood straight and tall, his arms crossed over his chest, giving the photographer the kind of superior, disdainful expression only a Goa’uld could master.

“That’s him,” Daniel said suddenly, pointing at the photograph. “That’s- That’s Nephthys.”

Now for the important part. “This is Seto Kaiba, CEO of Kaiba Corporation,” Sam said, gesturing to the photograph on the screen.

“Oh boy,” O’Neill muttered, sharing a look of grim understanding with the general.

“What?” Daniel asked in confusion.

The colonel leaned against the table and said, “Well, among other things, Kaiba Corporation is one of the world leaders in weapons manufacturing. They sold to the highest bidder, all countries welcome. I think we found the weapons of mass destruction.”

“Actually, no sir, I don’t think so,” Sam said, surprising her superior officers. She hurried to explain. “Ever since Seto became the new CEO, he’s shut down all of KaibaCorp’s weapons manufacturing departments and reallocated all of their assets towards technology, gaming, and alternative energy sources.”

This time even Teal’c seemed surprised. “That does not sound typical of the Goa’uld,” he said, studying the photograph with renewed interest.

“No, it doesn’t,” Hammond said. “Were you able to find out what precipitated this drastic change?”

“Let me guess,” O’Neill said. “It had to do with the previous CEO.”

“That’s… actually correct, sir,” Sam said, turning back to the screen and clicking her remote. Two more photos appeared on either side of Seto’s. The one on the right was of a young boy who couldn’t be older than twelve at most with messy black hair that hung to his upper back. The boy’s dark gray eyes were friendlier than Seto’s but he was dressed in a white suit that was eerily similar to the Goa’uld’s.

The photo on the left was a stark contrast to the other two. That picture was of a Japanese man in his sixties who was the epitome of a Wall Street business mogul or, dare Sam think it, a Hollywood mafia boss. Where Seto was cool and disdainful, the silk covered dagger, this man was hard and Sam could easily envision a P-90 in his huge hands and not see any difference.

“This,” she started, pointing to the businessman, “is Gozaburo Kaiba, the former CEO of KaibaCorp and the adopted father of Seto Kaiba and,” she pointed to the photo of the young boy, “Mokuba Kaiba.”

O’Neill lifted a finger and asked, “Adopted _father?”_

“Yes sir,” Sam said, her expression making it clear she found just as unbelievable. “None of them are related in any way. I did some digging and found out Mokuba was born Mokuba Takahashi. When his parents died, his family passed him around before dumping him at an orphanage. That’s where he found Seto.”

“Good place to recruit followers,” Daniel said. “With no parents or family members to keep track of them, orphans can easily slip through the cracks.”

Sam nodded. “That’s what I thought. But actually, according to the orphanage’s records, Mokuba found Seto barely conscious in an alleyway nearby. He was apparently severely dehydrated, disoriented, and seemed to be suffering from hallucinations. They’ve been inseparable ever since.”

“Wait.” Everyone looked at Daniel. “Did they ever find out what made him…” he waved vaguely, “like that? When Mokuba found him, I mean?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Sam said with a sigh. “Interestingly enough, although I couldn’t get a hold of any medical records without prior authorization-”

“Which you were never going to get,” O’Neill added wryly.

“-I did find that, according to several news reports, Seto’s system was apparently clean. Completely,” she said. “They should have been able to detect the naquadah in his system. They wouldn’t have known what it was, granted, but they should have been able to find it. They didn’t. Or, if they did, no one mentioned it.”

“You think he may not have been a host yet?” Hammond asked.

“Actually, I think he was,” she replied. “And this is why.”

She turned and clicked the remote to the next slide appeared on the screen. “This picture of Seto Kaiba is from the official KaibaCorp website.” She clicked the remote again and a video appeared. “And this is a video from a Japanese news reel from the day Gozaburo adopted him and Mokuba five years ago.”

She clicked the remote and the video played. The sound was a bit muffled but no words were needed to see the soon-to-be Seto Kaiba soundly defeat Gozaburo at chess. Mokuba stood by his brother’s side, clinging tightly to his arm and watching the game closely with wide eyes. Seto, by contrast, looked almost bored with the situation as he picked up his bishop and toppled Gozaburo’s king.

There were several garbled exclamations of surprise followed by a rapid exchange in Japanese. Gozaburo looked murderously furious for a brief instant, glaring at Seto who met it with a single lifted eyebrow. Then the businessman’s expression smoothed and he said something in clear, deep tones which drew awed reactions from the people present. The video cut off abruptly, jumping to a Japanese reporter who was able to get a few words out before the video ended for good.

“He hasn’t aged a day,” Daniel murmured.

“Did you see that eyebrow thing?” O’Neill said, pointing to Teal’c. “I’d pay to see him and Teal’c out-stare each other.”

Teal’c lifted an eyebrow and murmured, “Indeed.”

“Are you sure he wasn’t implanted between arriving at the orphanage and this video?” the general asked, ignoring his subordinates’ antics.

Sam thought carefully on the question. “I don’t think so, sir,” she said finally. “I mean, I could be wrong, but I don’t think so.”

“I trust your judgement, Major,” Hammond said firmly. “What I’d like to know is what would possess a Goa’uld to shut down one of the most profitable departments of a multi-million dollar company.”

“Not that we’re complaining,” O’Neill said quickly.

“I think, like you said earlier colonel, that has to do with the previous CEO, Gozaburo,” Sam said.

She clicked the remote several times until a photo of the New York Times cover page appeared. The headline read in big, bold, black letters ‘Death of KaibaCorp CEO Ruled Suicide.’

“Now _that_ looks suspiciously like some Goa’uld meddling,” O’Neill said.

“This was published two years ago,” Sam said. “According to the court records, Gozaburo met with Seto and the Board of Directors. The CCTV footage of Gozaburo’s death acquired by the Japanese police didn’t have any audio but it and the witness statements from Mokuba and everyone present at the incident all said Seto was on the opposite end of the room when Gozaburo jumped out the window.”

Daniel blinked in disbelief. “He jumped out a window?”

Sam nodded. “Of a thirty story office building,” she said.

“Oh. That’s… nice.”

“That is not the word I would use, Daniel Jackson,” Teal’c said.

“Not exactly the word I would use either,” the general said. “Do you think Seto was behind it?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” Sam admitted. “I was able to see some clips of the footage, it’s gathered quite a few conspiracy theorists online, and Seto does stay away from Gozaburo.”

“I hear a ‘but’ in there, Carter,” O’Neill said.

Sam frowned as she tried to piece together what she wanted to say, turning to face the headline on the screen as she did so. “Sir,” she started, “glass for most modern tall buildings is laminated meaning it’s extremely thick and durable. It’s not easy to break. The amount of force required to break a window on the top floor of a thirty-story building… I mean it _is_ possible for a full grown man of Gozaburo’s build to do it if he _really_ tried, but it wouldn’t be easy. The only way for the glass to break like it did in the video was if the window itself didn’t meet code or a significant amount of force was _added_ to Gozaburo’s own body mass.”

“So a Jedi did it,” O’Neill said. “I’m not making fun of you, Major,” he added quickly before Sam could snap at him. “We know those ribbon devices can throw someone across the room.”

“And we know he has one,” Daniel added. “He used it to fight Seth at the compound. You think he might have used it on Gozaburo,” he said, giving Sam an inquisitive look.

“Something like it, maybe,” she said. “Look, sir,” she turned to the general, “KaibaCorp may have shut down its weapons manufacturing but it is dominating in the science and technology departments. Everything from computers to cell phones to cybernetics to artificial intelligence to holographic technology.”

“Holographic technology?” Daniel gasped. “We have holographic technology?”

“How have we not heard of this until now?” Hammond asked with a frown.

“Probably because Seto, or Nephthys, refuses to sell his technology to the military,” Sam said. “Not from any country. He keeps a strict control of who has his technology and what it’s being used for at all times.”

“Now, the holographic technology,” she continued, her eyes sparkling with interest, “while impressive, isn’t very portable or useful on a large scale yet. It requires a specifically designed stage called a Duel Arena. It’s large and often treated as a permanent structure due to its size. It’s also only useful for the strategy card game Duel Monsters which Seto seems quite invested in.”

“A card game?” O’Neill said flatly.

“Yes sir,” Sam said. “As unbelievable as it may seem, most of the technology manufactured by KaibaCorp is related to gaming.”

“That’s interesting,” Daniel said. “I don’t think Nephthys is associated with games in mythology.”

“Either way,” General Hammond said, stopping the potential philosophical debate before it started, “if Nephthys or Seto or whatever he’s called is the CEO of a _Japanese_ company, what was he doing at Seth’s cult?”

“I may have an answer to that, sir,” Sam said promptly. She approached her laptop and sifted through the websites and pages of information until she found the one she needed. “The International Convention of Technology and Gaming in Seattle just concluded two days ago and Seto was confirmed as present. He was scheduled to present the latest version of his holographic technology SolidVision on,” she paused to double check her facts, “the day we took down Seth actually.”

“I guess he missed that one,” O’Neill said.

“He did and it looks like that created a bit of an uproar,” Sam confirmed. “Several newspapers reported on his absence. A couple mention he might be having a relapse of some kind?”

“Relapse?” Hammond asked.

Sam shook her head. “I’m not sure, sir. I’ll have to look into that.”

“Perhaps the questions we should be asking is what was Nephthys doing with Setesh and how did he escape our notice,” Teal’c said calmly.

“That’s a good point,” O’Neill said, leaning back in his chair and staring longingly at the coffee machine nearby. “ATF had the whole place surrounded and we had Sam, Jacob, and Teal’c in the escape tunnel. He had to’ve walked right past us.”

“I didn’t sense any Goa’uld except Setesh and Selmak,” Sam said, looking up from her computer.

“Neither did I,” Teal’c said.

“Now _that_ is what worries me the most,” the colonel said, glancing at the general. “How did we miss him?”

Sam frowned and looked back down at her computer screen. That was not something she wanted to dwell on right now. A Goa'uld who could walk right past her, Selmak, _and_ Teal'c without any of them noticing was not someone they wanted for an enemy. She clicked on the next webpage listed on the Google results.

"Um, Colonel?" she called. "Take a look at this." She clicked on the image on the website, enlarging it, and squatted down so the image projected on the screen was visible. "Look familiar?"

"Well I'll be damned," O'Neill muttered, staring at the messy blonde hair, brown eyes, and wide goofy smile on the face of the young man standing on the right in the photo.

The blonde was one of two people giving an enthusiastic hug to a goth boy with bleached bangs and dyed hair. The other hugger was a brunette about the same height as the blonde and between the two of them, they squished the goth in what looked like a rib-creaking embrace.

"Wait," Daniel said, sitting up suddenly. "I've seen all of them. Yes, I-I saw them in the hall after I left Jack in Seth's throne room to take care of getting the people to the Rings. Those two," he stood and walked up to the screen, pointing at the blonde boy and the boy with bleached bangs standing in the middle of the photo, "were holding him," he pointed to the brunette on left, "up. Like he'd been injured or... zatted."

He stopped and turned to his team. "Nephthys had a zat when he ran from Seth," he said quickly, his mind racing as it began to piece together events as he saw them. "Nephthys was _fighting_ Seth. Teal'c, before you shocked us out of the nish'ta, do you remember what Nephthys said? Something about serving-"

"He said he swore his absolute, unwavering loyalty to the person who defeated him in a fair test of skills," Teal'c said, tilting his head in acknowledgement. "I too found that interesting."

"Then after we snapped out of it, Nephthys said something about having a- a First Prime," Daniel continued enthusiastically. "But Teal'c was the only Jaffa there."

"Unless Nephthys has taken one of the Taur'i as a First Prime," Teal'c offered calmly.

"Then where was he? Or her?" Daniel asked. "Nephthys implied he brought an army with him to Seth's cult. But what if he didn't? What if he was bluffing?"

"As interesting as that is, I'm not sure what this has to do with the photo," Hammond said patiently.

"The point is, what if Nephthys really did only come there with a First Prime or someone he trusted?" Daniel said. "What if... What if Nephthys _wasn't_ there because he _wanted_ to be? What if Seth had something on Nephthys, er, Seto, or whatever! What I'm trying to say is, what if Nephthys was with Seth because he had no other choice?"

Plausible. Blackmail was nothing new to the Goa'uld. But what could Seth possibly have on Nephthys that was important enough for them to meet in person?

"Something like what?" Sam asked, hoping Daniel had an answer.

"Something important like..." He paused. "Like a First Prime. Someone Nephthys would have trusted. Someone he would come alone to get." He blinked, and groaned. "Oh. There were four people in the hallway," he murmured, falling into silence as he realized his mistake.

"Daniel?" O'Neill called, verbally nudging his friend out of his funk.

"When I saw them," he pointed back at the people in the photo, "in the hallway, they weren't alone. There was someone else with them. But I never saw their face because their hood was up and they were... looking away from me. Oh god," he groaned, dropping his face into his hand. "That was Nephthys."

"I believe that to be Nephthys as well," Teal'c said, nodding to the photo.

Sam frowned in confusion and followed the Jaffa's gaze back to the photo. At first, she didn't know what Teal'c was talking about. Then she saw it, him. There, in the background, stood a tall young man with short brown hair. He was wearing a dark blue trench coat that made him stand out against what looked like a large, white yacht or ferry boat docked nearby. A boy with messy black hair was sitting on his shoulders pointing at the camera.

"Oh my god," she murmured.

"Okay," O'Neill said, finally getting up start the coffee pot brewing. "Bets on who's this mysterious First Prime?"


	13. Scouting the Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pegasus gets some answers and learns when to not push while Seto tracks down the Stargate and gains an unwilling escort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** For canon reference, this takes place between Duelist Kingdom and Battle City for YuGiOh and the beginning of s3e6 'Point of View' for SG-1. I've edited this, but I'll do it again more seriously tomorrow.

Pegasus leaned back and stared at his unexpected guest distrustfully. He didn’t have the Eye anymore so his ability to read Kaiba-boy’s mind was kaput, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t read the boy’s expression. Nor could he forget what he’d seen in Kaiba's head.

The mind in Kaiba-boy’s young body was _old;_ older than every mind he had ever touched. It was slippery and conniving and serpentine and _alien._ It was hard to believe something like it even existed in this world. It was more akin to nightmare fodder and the darkest fears of humanity, less so the sunlit world of reality. Yet, despite all of that, or perhaps _because_ of that, Pegasus knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Seto Kaiba would have defeated him in a fair duel.

Now that _thing_ was standing in front of him, in his private home in the mountains of Colorado. How the snake found him was… Well actually, considering Kaiba-boy managed to hack into Pegasus’ systems and change the course of that ill-fated duel with Yugi by dissolving the Blue Eyes White Dragon, tracking Pegasus’ location shouldn’t be too hard. Still, it wasn’t something Pegasus found particularly pleasant to think about.

After that long-winded explanation, however curt and sharp tongued it might have been, Pegasus was willing to give the snake the benefit of the doubt. After everything Pegasus had seen with Shadi and the Millennium Eye, it made sense. The flashes of glowing gold eyes, the pyramids in the sky he’d always thought were the disjointed images of a dream, and the sight of enormous stone blocks falling to crush him only for his mind to wake up before they hit… Everything was unbelievable and yet so incredibly real.

Leaning back on his deck chair, Pegasus sipped his wine and regarded the Goa’uld before him. “You didn’t have the Millennium Rod with you when you came to my little island kingdom,” he said, lifting a perfectly plucked eyebrow inquisitively.

“Your gun carrying goons didn’t give me much choice in the matter,” Kaiba-boy said dryly.

“Understandable,” Pegasus admitted, nodding elegantly. “No hard feelings, I hope.”

Sharp blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “Don’t push your luck.”

Pegasus lifted his wine glass in a show of gratefulness. “I admit,” he began, “I wasn’t expecting your reply to my email to be so,” he hummed, “personal.”

“I find the less informed someone is, the more often they tend to act recklessly,” Kaiba-boy said, turning to gaze out at the view from the patio. “Recklessness can too easily be deadly.”

“Coming from you, that’s rich,” Pegasus scoffed.

“Coming from the person who kidnapped my little brother and stole more than one soul just to see their long dead lover,” blue eyes flashed gold, “you’re one to talk.”

Ooh, nicely done. That was a particularly needling attack. Pegasus set his wine glass down on the table by his reclining chair and crossed his legs at the ankles.

“Well,” he said, adopting a calm, casual demeanor, “as much as I appreciate this astonishing show of trust,” mm, yes, that was a very impressive glare, “I’m afraid I’m unsure of the purpose of your presence here. You could have simply told me everything over email or a phone call.”

“After how easily I hacked you before?” Kaiba scoffed. “Don’t be more stupid than you already are.”

“Hmm, point.”

They sat in silence that was surprisingly companionable. Pegasus wondered at the oddness of the situation. Despite their animosity and obvious reasons to despise one another, Kaiba-boy seemed to be calm. Fascinating.

“Why are you here, Kaiba-boy?” he asked finally. “I was under the impression you would prefer it if I was six feet under.”

“I do.”

Ouch. Hurtful.

“But I’ve dealt with enemies worse than you,” the Goa’uld said, dipping his chin so his glacial eyes continued to stare out over the mountains from under brown fringe only a few shades darker than his skin. “I know what you’re capable of and, quite frankly, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

So hurtful. “You seemed to disagree when I stole your soul,” Pegasus countered, reaching for his wine once more.

Ah. Finally, a chink in that millennia thick armor. It was faint, but Pegasus could just make out the slightest narrowing at the corner of a blue eye and thinning of Kaiba’s mouth.

“I wasn’t at my best.”

Probably true. Pegasus had been well aware of Kaiba-boy’s six month coma. He’d been hoping the older Kaiba would _stay_ in a coma long enough for Mokuba to give him the access codes to the KaibaCorp mainframe and complete his hostile takeover. If he’d just had a few more days…

It probably wouldn’t have ended the way he wanted anyway. Yugi-boy’s mind shuffle with that mysterious spirit had been deviously clever. When Yugi’s energy finally couldn’t take the strain and the spirit had faced the duel alone, Pegasus had been certain of victory. He still couldn’t figure out how Yugi-boy’s friends had been able to block the Millennium Eye’s powers. It was a problem his mind continued to dwell on even now.

Ah.

“You were alone when you faced me,” Pegasus murmured. “I was initially under the impression you and Yugi-boy had teamed up to help you get to me. But that wasn’t true at all, was it?”

The silence was answer enough.

“How long have you been alone, Kaiba-boy?” he asked, bringing his wine to his lips thoughtfully. His eyes never leaving Kaiba’s face. “It must have been a while,” he continued. “How many faces have you forgotten? How many people have you watched from birth to death?”

“Is there a point to your mindless chatter?” Kaiba snapped without the usual heat but with all the typical sharpness.

Pegasus grinned and sipped his wine. “Just making friendly conversation,” he said, choosing to ignore the glare tossed his direction. “You were the one who came to me and brought a rather fanciful story with you.” He held up a hand to forestall the sharp retort he knew would come. “I believe you. But that doesn’t mean your story is any less fantastic.”

Blue eyes narrowed briefly before turning back out to the tree covered mountains. Pegasus studied the Goa’uld with the young face closely as he continued to sip his wine. He had never had much contact with either of the Kaiba brothers before his ill-fated Duelist Kingdom venture. The few times he’d met the elder Kaiba face to face, he’d been intrigued by the serious, no-nonsense attitude. For someone whose entire living was centered around the world of gaming, Pegasus expected a personality more akin to his own or little Mokuba’s.

Hmm, now there was a thought. Did little Mokuba know the truth of his big brother’s existence? Unlikely. Pegasus wondered mildly what little Mokuba would think of his big brother keeping secrets from him.

Oh? It was subtle, but Pegasus noticed when blue eyes stopped scanning the horizon and locked onto a single target at the same time the tension eased from Kaiba-boy’s shoulders. So the Goa’uld hadn’t just been looking out there to avoid meeting Pegasus one-eyed gaze. Most curious.

Glancing over the stone railing of the patio, Pegasus followed Kaiba-boy’s gaze. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but a bird of prey gliding over the tree tops was, while interesting, a bit underwhelming. As they watched, the hawk began to gain altitude, flapping its wings and continuing at speed towards Pegasus’ patio. Hmm, it might make a low pass over their heads. That would be a treat.

Why was Kaiba-boy raising his arm- Ah. Well, that was a bit more interesting. Pegasus watched as the gray winged raptor backwinged abruptly and extended its talons to land on Kaiba-boy’s raised forearm. The bird fluffed the white feathers on its headed as it settled its wings comfortably on its back and clacked its beak.

“Friend of yours?” Pegasus asked wryly.

“Of a sort,” Kaiba said, running two fingers gently down the side of the raptor’s neck earning him some nibbles from the sharp beak. “She’s one of mine.”

“One of yours?” Pegasus asked, studying the bird with interest.

There were no visible tresses he usually saw on hawks trained by professional falconers. Also, he only wore a long midnight blue trench coat over a long-sleeved black turtleneck. Pegasus knew from reports that this particular coat was bulletproof but he was certain those razor sharp talons were still pricking Kaiba-boy’s skin.

“You accessed the Shadow Realm during your duel with me and Yugi,” Kaiba said.

The abrupt change of subject wasn’t unexpected but the new topic was. Shifting in his seat, Pegasus crossed his legs and lowered his wine glass to his lap.

“I did, yes,” he said, studying Kaiba-boy’s expression.

“Can you still touch the Shadows?” Kaiba asked, his gaze unerringly catching and holding Pegasus’.

Ah. “You’re referring to the disturbance from the other day,” he said, leaning back in his chair, aware of the attentive pair of blue eyes on him. Interestingly enough, it seemed a pair of hawkish amber were also studying him. If he didn’t know better, he would swear the bird’s gaze was as intelligent as Kaiba-boy’s.

One of his.

Oh. Bloody hell.

“You can still touch them then,” Kaiba said, lowering his arm so the hawk could lift her wings to catch a light breeze.

“I can,” Pegasus replied, now keeping a sharp eye on the bird that may be more than just a bird. “The Millennium Eye may have given me direct access to the Shadow Realm, but its… removal,” if he could call having the golden Item being ripped from his face by that insane brat a mere ‘removal’, “hasn’t taken away by Shadow powers. Granted, I can’t read minds or enact Shadow Games anymore but I can still see into the Shadow Realm itself. It helps with creating new cards for your favorite game.”

“And noticing when something doesn’t belong,” Kaiba finished.

“Two somethings actually,” Pegasus commented, sipping his wine. He didn’t miss the subtle widening of Kaiba-boy’s blue eyes. “You didn’t notice?”

“I noticed the disturbance,” he said, pulling the raptor close to his chest.

The hawk let out a shrill trill followed by a chirp before hopping from Kaiba-boy’s arm to his shoulder and turning to face Pegasus, flapping her wings to maintain balance. Her eyes flashed gold and a chill traveled up his spine. He was right. That bird was like Kaiba-boy.

 _One_ of his. How many more were there?

“But not the number of them,” Pegasus commented, relaxing in his seat and mulling over the news. “It would seem that while you have access to the raw power of the Shadow Realm, you cannot detect the minor fluctuations within it like I can.” Ah. “That’s why you came here in person,” he murmured in realization. “You were tracking those disturbances.” He pouted. “And here I thought you just wanted to visit with little ole me.”

Kaiba-boy sneered and the hawk shrieked, lifting her wings to appear larger than she was.

“You are trying my patience,” the Goa’uld hissed.

“And you’re still in my home by my goodwill,” Pegasus countered. “I have free reign here. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave at any time.”

Kaiba scoffed and looked back out over the mountains. “Do you know the cause of the disturbances?” he asked instead of pursuing the argument.

“No,” Pegasus admitted. “I can say it was… an odd feeling.” He hummed, choosing his words carefully. “It felt like seeing two ripples where the surface should be smooth and undisturbed.”

Kaiba’s chin dipped. “I see.” For several moments he said nothing. Then, “Is there a military base nearby?”

Odd question, that. “Quite a few. Most of them are near Colorado Springs to the south,” Pegasus replied, nodding to the view. “Why?”

At first, Kaiba didn’t reply. He just stared to the south in silence. Once again, Pegasus dearly wished he still had the Eye to see into that deviously brilliant mind. Even without seeing Kaiba-boy’s true nature, Pegasus had been intrigued by the KaibaCorp CEO’s calculating blue gaze and cunning nature. What he would give to have that mind under his control.

“How many of them are underground?” Kaiba demanded without explanation.

Pegasus blinked and frowned. “How would I know?” he said in indignation. “I have no dealings with the military. You should know more about them than me,” he added slyly.

“Gozaburo is dead,” Kaiba said in an icy tone. “All military contact died with him.”

True. Pegasus sighed loudly. “The only military base I know anything about is Cheyenne Mountain Complex, southwest of Colorado Springs,” he admitted finally. “It’s an old Cold War bunker built into the side of a mountain. NORAD is also based there, I believe.”

Without a word of gratitude -rude- Kaiba-boy turned on his heel and made his way towards Pegasus’ home.

“Leaving already?” Pegasus called, not expecting a reply. “I suppose I should just keep my mouth shut about your… affliction then, shall I?”

The glare he got in reply was particularly vicious and made him chuckle. He waved off the icy fury.

“Yes, yes. Who would I tell? It’s not like anyone would believe me anyway. Although,” he drawled, making a show of thinking, “perhaps your little brother should know?”

“Tell him and you won’t survive the day, Pegasus.”

It took a significant amount of self-control to not shudder at the threat. One look at those eyes which were not entirely human and Pegasus could actually believe Kaiba was fully capable of carrying out the threat. He held his tongue as he watched Kaiba step through the doors and into Pegasus’ home. His bodyguards would make sure the Goa’uld left the property.

Goa’uld. Such a simple word for such a complex being. Pegasus grinned. He looked forward to facing Kaiba-boy again. This time, he would allow the Goa’uld the extra distance he requested the first time they faced off. Snakes were fascinating, but venomous snakes were best observed from a safe distance.

* * *

Seto leaned into the next turn on the winding mountain road. He could feel it singing in his nerves and reverberating in his senses. With every curve of the road, he could feel himself coming closer to it. It loomed and resonated with the naquadah in his veins. It was definitely here.

He rounded another corner and passed a parking lot on the left. He must be getting close and… Yes. There we go. He slowed down to make the 180 degree curve and rode into the parking lot, pulling into the first open parking spot he found on the far side of the lot. He sat on his white and blue motorcycle for several seconds, staring at the tunnel entrance to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex.

The Chappa’ai was here. He was so close to it. He hadn’t been this close to the device for thousands of years. He forgot how it made him feel. He felt like iron shavings shivering from the pull of a nearby magnet, just _waiting_ for an excuse to jump towards the pull.

When other Goa’uld had been nearby, the pull of the Chappa’ai was nothing but background noise. But now that he was alone, the pull was immediate and insistent. Now that he was here, he couldn’t find it within him to leave. Not without seeing it.

Besides, the fact the disturbance he and Pegasus felt in the Shadows was here as well just gave him more reason to stay.

Feathers rustling was the only warning he got before Neith landed on his handlebars. Ignoring her, he dismounted his motorcycle and propped it on the kickstand. Stepping back, he removed his helmet and opened the storage compartment. He pulled out his Millennium Rod and the bag of his personal belongings and stored his helmet in their place. Setting the bag on the seat, he unzipped it and checked to be sure the contents survived the trip. He had prioritized speed over comfort and although his tech was designed to be durable it did have its limits.

The protective leather case for his Deck was unharmed and he could feel the Monsters within slumbering undisturbed like a dull buzz. His wallet and passport were also undamaged as were the two pieces of Goa’uld technology he’d chosen to bring with him.

He’d debated leaving them with his bodyguard Isono Roland at his hotel but ultimately decided against it. He didn’t plan on fighting, but he hadn’t planned on the military showing up at Setesh’s compound either. Seto didn’t have Jounouchi’s luck with him today. Then again, he hadn’t had it for 5,000 years and he’d survived. If he had to get out in a hurry, he was fully capable of doing so. He would just prefer not to.

He tucked his wallet and Japanese passport into his inner breast pocket of his coat and the Goa’uld technology into his right black pants pocket. The Millennium Rod he secured next to his Deck on his belt. Then he stuffed the empty bag underneath the helmet, shut the compartment lid, and armed the biometric electric lock. Satisfied, he turned and made his way to the entry.

Seto could feel the Chappa’ai in the facility but he wasn’t sure where in the facility it was. An escort would work wonders. Seto didn’t look military nor did he look like a scientist. Besides, since the Chappa’ai was likely controlled by the military, a military officer would be best to act as his escort.

And it seemed Ra blessed him with an opportunity.

* * *

Captain James Baker was finally heading home after the end of his shift. He had a slight headache from staring at the computer readouts in the dim lighting of the base but he loved his job. Every time he stopped to think about it, actually _think_ about _in detail_ , he felt all giddy inside. Aliens. Real live aliens were _real_ and he got to crunch the numbers for the data retrieved from the off-world missions.

Although he’d never been on an off-world mission yet, he had hopes that he would one day. This was better than the dreams he once had to go to Mars. Now he had the chance to go to a whole ‘nother _solar system._ It was mind bogglingly aweso-

A shadow moved nearby and James looked up in time to see a gray and white hawk land on the corner of the roof on one of the nearby buildings. He smiled to himself. Traveling to other worlds was fantastic and a dream come true, but he loved Earth with all his heart. He wouldn't live anywhere else.

“Excuse me.”

Startled out of his thoughts, James looked up, blinking in the bright sunlight. The person who stood in front of him was a young man, no older than twenty at most, with brown hair and blue eyes that stood out starkly against a tan face. The stranger spoke English but had an accent that sounded Japanese. He wasn’t dressed like the usual civilians and guests who visited Cheyenne Mountain but he was polite. Perhaps he was meeting someone or picking someone up.

“Yes sir,” the young captain replied.

The person’s hand dropped to rest on his hip and the captain tensed but no weapon was drawn. The hand simply rested there as if it was a habitual move and not intended to be threatening. Nevertheless-

“The Chappa’ai,” the stranger said in curt, clipped tones. “Where is it?”

Chappa’ai. Only Teal’c and the few Tok’ra James had contact with referred to the Stargate as ‘Chappa’ai.’

“You know where it is,” the young man murmured in realization, his accent thickening. Blue eyes flashed gold and James reached for his gun. “You will take me to it and go about your business as usual. You will not remember me or this little excursion. If anyone asks, you will simply tell them you were following orders. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” James said, relaxing and saluting his commander. "This way sir."


	14. Illicit Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seto has an illicit tour, makes a few uncomfortable realizations, and braces for an unwelcome talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Short chapter but it felt like a good place to stop. Next chapter will be interesting to write. I look forward to it.

The complex was deeper than he originally thought. It was tempting to just stare at the increasing number in the elevator. Already they were passing sublevel 25 and counting. His unassuming escort was a young captain who had enough energy to rival Yugi’s loyal dog. He just couldn’t stand still to save his life. At least he didn’t talk Seto’s ear off.

Finally, the elevator slowed and stopped at sublevel 28 and the doors hissed open. Seto waited for the captain to step out first before following behind him. The hall was wide enough for four, fully armored Horus Jaffa to stand comfortably abreast. Solid stone covered by steel reinforced concrete lined the walls and thick support beams. The grayness of the base made Seto feel enclosed and, dare he think it, trapped. Had the walkways been gold, it would have felt distinctly Goa’uld.

Perhaps he was just nervous, however much it galled him to admit it. The presence of so much concentrated naquadah from the Chappa’ai as well as the disturbances in close proximity were making him jumpy. That was never a good thing. Without his strict self-control and the soothing aid of the Millennium Rod, his Shadows had a tendency to act without his conscious command. He did not want another incident like what happened with Yugi’s grandfather.

Military personnel moved through the hallway without so much as a side glance. If they worked with the Chappa’ai, then that wasn’t much of a surprise. Seto could only imagine the things they’d seen and dealt with first hand. A strange face on occasion wouldn’t be too big of a surprise. His escort was obviously a known face and dispelled any potential suspicion.

The captain turned down a side hallway that was narrower but with a higher ceiling, and Seto glanced around, noting the drop in foot traffic here.

“You don’t need to take me directly to the Chappa’ai,” he said when they were far enough from any eavesdroppers.

“Then where would you like me to take you, sir?” the captain asked, stopping and turning to face him expectantly.

Where indeed. Seto did want to see the Chappa’ai to satisfy his own desire and ease the insistent pull, but he needed to investigate the disturbances. If left to their own devices, Pegasus’ ripples in reality could quickly become a tsunami. They needed to be checked now while the mess was still just ripples.

“Has there been anything unusual on base in the past couple days?” Seto asked, keeping one eye on the officers who passed by.

“Unusual, sir?” the captain asked, frowning in confusion.

Point.

“Is there anyone not military I can talk to about the activity surrounding the Chappa’ai?” he asked instead.

“That would be Dr. Jackson, sir,” the captain said helpfully. “Dr. Jackson was part of the team that originally opened the Stargate. He’d be able to help you.”

Stargate. At least the translation was accurate.

“Is Dr. Jackson here?” he asked.

Now that Seto was inside the base, he could begin tracking down whatever had caused the disturbances in the Shadows. Its proximity to the Chappa’ai was concerning. If the disturbances were indeed a weapon like he feared, then having them so close to naquadah was a nightmare. If this Dr. Jackson was a civilian, then it would seem less suspicious for Seto to wander the complex with him. With any luck, the good doctor would also be able to provide Seto with more useful information about the inner workings of this place.

“I believe so,” the captain replied, looking over his shoulder at Seto. “I could take you to his office if you want.”

Seto nodded and followed behind the young officer back the way they came. It took some concentration to remember the sequence of turns and curves of the complex and still focus on the general direction of the disturbances. He could feel them both now that he was closer and the sensation was clearer. The disturbances were nearby but not in the same exact location. One was close and moving closer.

Suddenly, Seto shivered as the Shadows shrank away from the path ahead of them. Tensing in anticipation, Seto looked up and readied himself for what he might see. He was stunned when a woman with blonde hair and an unfortunately familiar face rounded the bend ahead of him with a female guard by her side. The woman’s face was the same as the little warrior woman from Setesh’s compound who’d survived the removal of a Goa’uld symbiote. But Seto couldn’t _feel_ her. She was invisible to his naquadah senses.

It took a few seconds for him to realize she actually wasn’t the same woman at all. Her face was the same, but the similarities ended there. This woman’s hair was long and brushed straight in a distinctly non-military style. Although she was wearing a military jumpsuit, her build and carriage screamed civilian. Her blue eyes weren’t as sharp as the ones that noticed him and assessed the threats in Setesh’s compound either. They were softer and clouded by emotion.

And wherever she moved, the Shadows rippled unnaturally in the fabric of reality.

The disturbances were _people._ Impossible. How? Seto had come in here expecting to find a piece of technology or a weapon of some sort. Not a person. Not _people._ A device could be destroyed or taken apart; people could either be killed or left alone. If Seto killed anyone in this complex, it would not be easy nor would it go unnoticed. He was clever but even he wouldn’t make it out of here alive from a situation like that without Jounouchi’s luck or full control of the Chappa’ai. And he currently had neither.

This changed things.

He forced his gaze to shift away from the woman’s too-familiar face, hiding a cringe as his Shadows shrank away from her presence and clung to him like frightened children grasping at their mother. What he would give to have his brood of crows at his back. Hell, even the Pharaoh’s lapdog would be preferable.

Neith had been reluctant to enter the compound with him, choosing to remain under the open sky. Seto couldn’t fault her for that. Even he had trouble remaining in enclosed spaces without a view of the sky for extended periods of time. It didn’t stop him from wishing she was here.

His mind turned that thought over and over before he finally grimaced. He needed help. This was not going to be fun.

“This is it,” the captain said, gesturing to a nearby door.

It was unlocked and open wide in silent welcome to visitors. Without a word, Seto stepped inside and was disappointed to find no one there. The room was a decent size but the clutter made it seem claustrophobic. How someone could survive in such a mess was beyond Seto’s comprehension.

A chalkboard stood nearby with hieroglyphics and their English translations hand drawn on it. Interestingly enough, there was another line of text beneath the ancient Egyptian and Goa’uld written in a language Seto hadn’t seen in millennia. He hadn’t been very good at it back then despite his best efforts. Kisara thought Seto’s accent had been the problem, making it difficult for him to pronounce the words correctly.

With a frown, Seto noticed some of the ancient language had been translated to English as well, but it was broken and incomplete. That meant this Dr. Jackson had come in contact with that language recently. Yet another question to add to his ever-growing list for the good doctor.

Turning to leave, Seto froze and spun back around. There, visible on the glowing display of the only computer in the messy office, was a photograph that should _not_ be in the American military’s possession. He remembered the moment it had been taken with painful clarity despite having just recovered his soul from Pegasus’ grasp.

Where had they gotten it? Masaki Anzu was an avid photographer and she loved her friends. Seto knew the girl wouldn’t just hand over a photo of her friends to any military officer. Not without a _very_ good reason. Which meant Dr. Jackson had gotten it some other way.

But first… Seto approached the computer and stared at the photograph on the screen, scanning it for any details that could potentially cause a problem for himself or the Pharaoh’s group in the future. Seto was in the background with Mokuba on his shoulders but otherwise he looked normal. Jounouchi and Honda were squishing Yugi in a hug that Seto was certain had resulted in gasping and wobbly legs.

The Millennium Puzzle wasn’t visible. It must have been pushed aside by one of Yugi’s friends so they could hug him so tightly. The fact the Puzzle had been shoved to the side facing away from the camera was incredibly lucky. Blue eyes glanced significantly at Jounouchi. Lucky indeed.

Nevertheless, the fact the military knew about Yugi and his friends was worrisome. They probably remembered their faces from Setesh’s compound, Seto realized with a muttered curse. He couldn’t just let that stand.

Grabbing the mouse, Seto printed the photo and deleted the digital copy. He couldn’t be sure if there were other copies of the photo, physical or digital, elsewhere in the complex, but he could get rid of this one. Snatching the printout from the printer, Seto folded it and stuffed it into his coat’s breast pocket next to his wallet and passport.

He needed to find this Dr. Jackson. He wanted answers.

He could safely bet the strike team that infiltrated Setesh’s compound were aware Seto was a Goa’uld and knew his face. If they were willing to listen before firing first, which seemed to be the case when last they met, then perhaps Seto could call a truce. They did have a shared enemy after all. He didn’t want the System Lords back here after all the work he and his fellow Priests had done to ensure they left in the first place.

Now with the disturbances here, the _human_ disturbances, Seto needed to consider his options and choose wisely. Based on what he could sense from the strange woman with the familiar face, the ripple in the Shadows was beginning to distort the fabric of reality in such a way that Seto may not have to act. The distortion would rip the woman apart or dissolve her.

She did not belong here. Wherever she was from, however she got here, Seto didn’t care. The Shadows of this world _knew_ she was _foreign_ and _hated_ her for it. She repelled them like no human should. The longer she stayed here, the worse it would get. It was likely the same for whoever was the other source of the rippling disturbance as well.

Death would be a mercy.

Which brought Seto back to the predicament from earlier. The best way to handle the two human disturbances, as far as Seto could see, was to kill them and get it over with. If he didn’t, then the Shadows and reality would do the job for him and they would be neither quick nor painless about it. Unless there was a way to return the two disturbances to wherever they came from, then death was the only option.

Osiris take it all. And everything had been going so well too. Seto needed help and he didn’t trust a single person in this base. Damn it. If he was going with option two, then he might as well make it official. When he got back to Japan after this, he was taking a few days off with Mokuba.

“Captain,” he said, turning to see his escort still standing in the doorway obediently awaiting orders. “Who is the commander of this base?”

“That would be Major General Hammond, sir,” the captain replied.

Obelisk, keeper of the balance, give Seto strength.

“I wish to speak with him,” Seto bit out, hating every word.

The captain hesitated. “I’m not sure if he’s in his office right now,” he admitted, “but you can wait outside in the briefing room for him. I’ll take you there.”

“Thank you,” Seto said curtly, leaving Dr. Jackson’s office and following his escort down the hall.

Several minutes and turns later, Seto could feel the Chappa’ai within his immediate vicinity. It couldn’t be more than a dozen or so meters away. Behind one of these gray walls was the… If he focused, he could almost… His escort guided him up a flight of steps into a control room full of computers, displays, and a wall of windows looking out over…

There. Seto had to catch himself to keep from staring at the large ring device through the windows of the control room he stood in. An officer with graying hair sat reading a stack of papers on a clipboard in the light of a series of computers. Seto’s escort didn’t stop to stare at the scene, instead continuing through the control room and beginning to climb a spiral staircase to the floor above.

The rest of the personnel might not notice Seto didn’t belong, but an officer directly overlooking the Chappa’ai likely would. Ducking his head, he climbed the staircase as swiftly as he could without rousing suspicion.

The interior decorating of this floor was nearly identical to the rest of the complex. Dull, gray, and utilitarian. The first thing Seto noticed about the briefing room was that its right wall was made of three, large, near floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Chappa’ai below. A long table with eight rolling office chairs sat in the center of the room, three on either side and one at each end. On the far wall was a star map etched on thick bullet-proof glass looking into an office that likely belonged to General Hammond.

An emblem made of symbols Seto knew intimately was mounted on the wall nearest the stairs. The planet Earth served as the emblem’s backdrop which was overlayed by a ‘V’ shaped chevron from the Chappa’ai. The topmost layer was the Earth’s point of origin symbol. Artistic, clear, and succinct.

The captain shifted from where he stood waiting for Seto to acquaint himself with the room. “I’ll go let the General know you-” he said, already moving back to the stairs.

“No,” Seto said quickly, halting the captain’s movements. “Don’t. I’ll wait for him here. You’re dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir,” the captain said. He saluted one last time before exiting the briefing room and leaving Seto alone.

It wasn’t quite silent, but it wasn’t loud either. Seto wanted badly to look out the windows at the Chappa’ai he could feel _right there._ But he couldn’t. Not yet. If he was going to do this effectively without coming across as a threat, then he had to do this right the first time.

Digging into his pants pocket, he pulled out the silver glove-like kara kesh and the palm sized healing device and placed them gently on the table. He would keep his wallet and passport on his person for security purposes. The photo, however, was placed next to the kara kesh, two of the metal fingers acting as paperweights to hold the printout in place.

After a few seconds of silent debate, Seto reluctantly unhooked his Millennium Rod and placed it on the table next to the Goa’uld technology as well. The Rod was capable of protecting itself from unwanted possessors so he didn’t worry about it being stolen. He did miss the comforting weight of it at his hip and the soothing control it helped him hold over his Shadows. Better to appear unarmed if possible, however.

Finally, he turned and looked out the windows to where the Chappa’ai stood between two mechanical support beams far below and waited. This was going to be interesting.


	15. Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which General Hammond has an unexpected visitor and Seto realizes he miscalculated, badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Sorry for the delay. Real life demanded my attention. Hope you enjoy this confrontation chapter. I hope it was worth the wait. I'll seriously edit this tomorrow.
> 
> Side note: The soldier at the end of the chapter is Chief Master Sergeant Walter Harriman, aka 'Chevron guy.' Love that guy. So underrated.

Major General George Hammond had seen some things. As the officer in charge of Stargate Command, he'd read every mission report to come from the SG teams and had some unique experiences of his own. Some of them were hilarious and ultimately harmless, but others had tested the limits of his imagination and sanity.

When he’d first met SG-1 as a junior officer in 1969, it had blown his mind. Then when he met them in the present time, he realized that _this_ was what his life had been leading up to. This is what he was meant to do. This is where he was meant to be. No matter how stressed it made him, he had no regrets taking command of this base and Stargate operations.

Not even after the events of today. Seeing an alternate version of Maj. Samantha Carter was odd but intriguing. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine the brilliant woman as a civilian scientist. Hammond could easily see her as one of, if not _the_ top scientific mind in the world. Both versions of her had a Ph.D. in astrophysics after all.

That said, the general was relieved to see the physical differences between Maj. Carter and Dr. Carter. They may have the same face and the same voice, but they weren’t the same person. Maj. Carter’s hair was short and there was a fierceness in her eye that was missing from her alternate. Dr. Carter was a civilian who wore her hair long and respected the military and the officers in command, but who refused to bow to their demands. The contrast was, surprisingly, a relief.

It was the other unexpected guest from the alternate reality on the other side of the Quantum Mirror who truly unnerved the general. He never expected to see Charles Kawalsky again after he died under the control of a Goa’uld. Seeing him alive and well after he was nearly three years dead in this reality was a shock Hammond didn’t know how to handle properly.

The resident doctor, Janet Fraiser, had confirmed that this Kawalsky was, medically speaking, indeed the exact same as the Kawalsky who died on base under his watch. It was a reminder of a failure and a loss that helped kickstart the war against the Goa’uld. A war General Hammond saw no end to in the near future.

He had promised to talk to his superiors about the possibility of Dr. Carter and Kawalsky remaining in this reality and he would keep that promise. He understood the pain of losing loved ones. Their Earth had been invaded by the Goa’uld. When they lost control of their Stargate, Dr. Carter and Kawalsky had been forced to run for their lives through the Quantum Mirror hoping they would arrive in a safe world where they could exist and mourn their loss in peace. The least Hammond could do was offer them that.

Lost in thought, he climbed the stairs from the control room up to sublevel 27, his fingers gingerly rubbing his temple. With a sigh, he stepped onto the carpeted floor of the briefing room and moved towards his office on the far side.

“Your coffee is atrocious.”

Startled by the unexpected voice, General Hammond halted and looked up at the person standing by the windows overlooking the Stargate. Did he have an appointment? He couldn’t remember making one.

Hoping he could recognize the stranger, Hammond shifted so he could see the reflection in the windows. It was too blurry to make out, but he was able to determine the person was a young man with brown hair and an odd taste in clothing. The young man wore a midnight blue trench coat with a high collar and black pants. He also seemed comfortable with the situation if the hands tucked in his pockets were anything to go by.

Then Hammond noticed the gold and silver objects on the table.

“I suppose it is,” he said cautiously, fighting back the urge to call for security. “Though honestly, I didn’t know the Goa’uld drank coffee,” he added, noting the mug of the still steaming drink sitting barely touched next to the Goa’uld technology on the table.

“When it’s not liquid shit, it’s a good source of caffeine,” the Goa’uld said dryly. “Caffeine is worth more than gold.”

That didn’t sound like something a Goa’uld would say. Hearing it said in a human voice that lacked the distinct echoey quality the Goa'uld preferred only made it more weird. But the general wasn’t going to allow himself to be distracted by the oddities.

“How did you get in here?” he demanded, keeping his voice calm but firm with an effort.

“I walked through the front door,” the Goa’uld said, turning away from the windows to face the general directly. “General Hammond, I presume.”

“Nephthys, I presume,” Hammond replied in the same tone.

Blue eyes flashed gold. “Since we’ve only just met, I’ll overlook that insult,” he said.

“Insult?” Hammond repeated in confusion.

“Nephthys is _not_ my name,” the Goa’uld said, banked fury shining in his blue eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Though I can see why you might think that. Setesh always had a wicked sense of humor.”

“Then what should I call you?” Hammond asked, wary but aware of the fact the Goa’uld had set aside the obvious weapons before speaking with him.

Maj. Carter’s research hadn’t implied Nephthys, or whatever his name was, had ever been particularly violent or attention seeking like Seth had been throughout the centuries. For that reason, and that reason only, the general was willing to give the Goa’uld the benefit of the doubt. Even if he dearly wanted to know how a Goa’uld could walk right into the SGC without anyone noticing.

The Goa’uld in question gazed at him for a few moments before answering. “I was born to the name Set,” he said. “But I go by Seto Kaiba these days.” Blue eyes narrowed. “You knew that.”

“You may have his name, but you aren’t Seto Kaiba,” Hammond said, glaring at the intruder. It may not be wise to taunt the snake, but it also wasn’t wise to have a snake in close proximity either.

“No?” Set shrugged and rested the fingers of one hand gently on the table’s smooth surface. “It may not be the name I was born to, true, but it was the name I bought with my blood and sanity. Therefore, it is mine.”

Hammond frowned. “I doubt your host feels the same way.”

Set scoffed, his lips twitching up in dry amusement. “There’s no need to be so defiant, general,” he drawled, refusing to be roused by Hammond’s verbal jabs. “After all, I did not come here as your enemy.”

“Then why are you here?” Hammond demanded, feeling the weight of the stars on his shoulder. This was _his_ base and this Goa’uld’s presence was a threat to it and everyone in it.

Tan fingers toyed with the handle of the mug as if debating taking it in hand. “To make a truce,” Set said, finally looping his fingers through the mug handle and lifting it to his lips. Immediately, he grimaced at the flavor. “That really is disgusting.”

He still drank more. The general watched in suspicion. “A truce,” he said, doubt coloring his words. “After you invaded this base-”

“Walking through the front door _with_ an escort is hardly an invasion,” Set interrupted, replacing the mug on the table. “I came alone, I disarmed myself, and I’m talking to you now instead of killing you. I should think that was preferable. You Humans always did prefer finding peaceful solutions to things before resorting to violence. Even if violence is the only efficient way to get the job done.”

“If talking can save lives, than-”

“Spare me the lecture, general,” Set drawled in a bored tone. “I’ve heard it before from better people. We will agree to disagree on that point and that will be that.”

“That’s hardly how a truce works,” Hammond said, keeping his frustration in check from years of self-discipline. “Besides, we already have a treaty with the Goa’uld. One I doubt they would be eager to break.”

Set’s eyes widened in shocked disbelief before narrowing in wary suspicion. “What kind of treaty?” he said. Then, “You trust them to keep to it?”

“I think the alternative would be less than pleasant for them if they don’t,” Hammond said.

For a few seconds, Set was silent. “I’m having a hard time imagining the System Lords deliberately keeping to the terms of any treaty no matter who it’s with,” he admitted finally. “In my experience, if they think for even a second that they can get away with breaking it, the treaty will become nothing but empty words. You can’t trust them.”

If SG-1’s experience from Cimmeria was anything to go by, Set’s observations were one hundred percent accurate. The moment the Asgard weapon Thor’s Hammer was destroyed, the System Lord Heru’ur had attempted an invasion. Only contact with the Asgard and Thor’s arrival in an Asgard mothership had stopped the invasion. General Hammond doubted that event was a fond memory for Heru’ur.

Still, hearing such observations from another Goa’uld, especially willingly given, was interesting. For the first time since this conversation began, Hammond actually studied the Goa’uld in front of him carefully. Not once since Set first spoke had he directly or indirectly threatened the general or the people on this base. He was arrogant but restrained. He hadn’t made any sudden movements or raised his voice in a way that could potentially come across as intimidating. His words were blunt and to-the-point.

It was more akin to talking to a Tok’ra than to a Goa’uld.

Now there was thought. From what little Hammond knew of Set, the Goa’uld had not been on the best of terms with Ra or the other System Lords. He’d even directly acted out against them and become somewhat admired by the Jaffa. Although Maj. Carter hadn’t been able to dig up more details on Set between Ra abandoning Earth and recent years, what she had found implied Set preferred to remain alone and unbothered.

It did make the general wonder, though. When Dr. Jackson looked into the Goa’uld Seth, he’d found a series of nasty cults attributed to him. If this Goa’uld was also called ‘Set,’ then were any of those cults actually attributed to him instead? Or had Set been helping Seth in some way? They _had_ first met him in Seth’s latest cult, even if the two appeared to be on separate sides.

Hammond knew Seth hadn’t had a sarcophagus and had been forced to change hosts every 400 or so years because of that. But even after thousands of years living amongst the Humans on Earth, Seth’s spoken language had been somewhat formal and archaic, another typical attribute of the Goa’uld.

Set’s host, however, was young and the way Set spoke was indicative of someone who had lived immersed in Human culture for years and embraced it. His accent was distinctly Japanese, even if it rolled some of the English syllables hinting at influences from other languages. Set had gone undercover and successfully passed as a Human for who knew how long. That subterfuge was yet again more akin to the actions of a Tok’ra than of a Goa’uld.

Well, if General Hammond couldn’t trust the System Lords-

“Should I trust you?” he asked, honestly curious how Set would answer.

The Goa’uld paused in mild surprise then huffed in amusement and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “If you’re wise, you shouldn’t,” he said bluntly, smirking mischievously. “I am a Goa’uld, after all. Besides, if I understand correctly, that treaty of yours is only with the System Lords. I am not a System Lord, therefore it does not bind me.”

“Maybe not,” Hammond allowed. “But the treaty is also with the Asgard.”

For the first time, true shock flickered across Set’s face. “The Asgard?” he gasped. “Why are they involved? They have nothing to do with this galaxy. They never have.”

“The treaty includes Earth as one of their Protected Planets,” the general explained. “If the System Lords attack, then the Asgard will retaliate.”

Shock melted into _fury!_ Blue eyes blazed bright gold a split second before a sharp crack startled both of them. Stunned, they both stared down at the mug of coffee sitting on the table. A jagged crack streaked down the side of the smoothe, black ceramic from rim to base. The coffee was still safely contained, but who knew for how long.

Hammond quickly glanced up at Set who seemed equally surprised by the event. Neither of them had made a move towards the mug. But in the general’s personal experience, mugs didn’t just spontaneously crack in the SGC without an explanation.

Then Set hissed in frustration and took a deep, calming breath, muttering something that was most likely a curse in Goa’uld. Blue eyes flickered to the golden devices on the table briefly before he tucked his hands in his pockets and turned back to the windows with a sigh.

* * *

“My… apologies,” Seto bit out, not enjoying the admission of guilt. “I’m usually better at controlling myself.”

Granted, he hadn’t been this angry or unnerved in a while and the Millennium Rod wasn’t on his person to keep his powers in check. So, the Asgard were actively involved in the war against the System Lords now. What, by Ra’s holy fire, had taken them _so long?_ How many innocents had suffered and died before those little gray idiots finally decided to take a side? Why hadn’t they gotten involved earlier? As in 5,000 years earlier. Before the Pharaoh and so many of his Court had been killed?

Still, legitimate fury or not, Seto should never have allowed his control to slip, especially not in front of the general. That was a shameful display. Whenever he didn’t have personal contact with the Millennium Rod, he had to keep a firm hold on his emotions. That little slip had potentially revealed a bit more of his hand than he’d intended it to.

The general’s reflection in the window appeared less afraid and more intrigued by the broken mug. Hopefully he wouldn’t ask too many pointed questions. Seto could only dodge so many before he lost what little trust he’d managed to garner during their short interaction. Attempting to head off the verbal deluge he knew was just waiting to be unleashed, Seto spoke first.

“I have no love for the Asgard,” Seto said, fighting hard to keep the venom in his voice to a minimum.

“Most of the System Lords don’t,” Hammond said, sounding dryly amused.

As much as he didn’t like that jab, Seto could appreciate the general’s sarcasm. He still felt his eyes flash gold when his temper flared briefly.

“I am _not_ a System Lord,” Seto said firmly, turning his head to meet the general’s gaze directly. “I have no loyalty to them. They could all burn alive in front of me and I would fan the flames. I _hate_ them.” He paused thoughtfully before adding, “I hate them only slightly more than the Asgard.”

The general’s expression cleared as if he’d finally seen something he’d missed before and come to some conclusion. Whatever it was, Seto hoped it would be beneficial for both of them.

“How long have they had this… Protected Planets Treaty in place?” Seto asked.

He may not like the Asgard or trust the System Lords, but he was impressed a treaty had been created in the first place. He wondered absently what had been the deciding factor that ultimately drew the Asgard into the war with the System Lords.

“Several thousand years at least,” Hammond said. Seto could hear the elderly man’s frown in his voice. “I was unaware you had contact with the Asgard.”

“Not direct contact,” Seto said, looking back out to the Chappa’ai and forcing the muscles in his shoulders to slowly relax. “But I’m aware of them. They outgunned the Goa’uld long before I was born, and yet they did nothing when they were needed most.”

His gaze dropped to the reflection of the Duel Monsters card locket dangling from the leather strap around his neck. It really was amazing how just the sight of it banished the tension and made his shoulders droop. Seto had lost so much in his life yet Mokuba was a constant source of comfort. His little brother didn’t even have to be physically present to ease Seto’s mind.

“Pardon me for asking,” the general said in a tone that made it clear he really didn’t give a damn what Seto thought, “but what would a Goa’uld who despises the Asgard need from them?”

Good question. “We could have used their help 5,000 years ago,” Seto replied. “We had no aid, no advanced weapons, no allies. We were on our own and the Asgard did _nothing.”_

“Who were on their own?” Hammond demanded.

Instead of answering the question directly, Seto changed the subject. “I told you I was here to make a truce,” he said. “While that is true, I originally came here for something else entirely. I didn’t know the Chappa’ai was here until I came within a hundred mile radius of it. The amount of naquadah in the device is like a beacon to any Goa’uld like me. Especially since there aren’t any other Goa’uld or Jaffa present creating background noise.”

“And by ‘Goa’uld like you,’ I assume you mean a Goa’uld queen,” the general said, allowing the subject to shift for now.

The tension returned to his shoulders as Set gazed out over the Chappa’ai with an unreadable expression. “You know,” he murmured.

“The Tok’ra and the Jaffa have stories about you,” the general said.

Tok’ra. There was that odd word again. ‘Against Ra.’

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that word,” Seto said, turning to the Human curiously and biting back the urge to ask about the stories. “Tok’ra. What is this… Tok’ra?”

General Hammond nodded as if Seto had just confirmed something and again Seto wished he knew what it was.

“The Tok’ra are a sect of Goa’uld who broke away from the System Lords,” the general explained.

Seto lifted an eyebrow in incredulity. “And they call themselves the ‘Tok’ra’?” he said dryly. “Are they _asking_ to be killed? With a name like that, Ra will wipe them from existence as soon as look at them.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Hammond said, a sly grin on his face. “It’s hard to wipe someone out when you’re dead.”

Dead… Wha…?

Seto stood stock still as his mind tried valiantly to comprehend the general’s words. Dead. Ra, the _Supreme_ System Lord, was dead?

“Ra is dead?” he asked in breathless need for confirmation.

“He is, yes.”

There was no sign of deception on the general’s grandfatherly face. Besides, what would Hammond gain by lying about the Supreme System Lord’s death? If anything, denying Ra tended to be a death sentence. Hell, even Seto knew that their rebellion would _very_ likely have failed if Ra had actually been planetside at the time. They’d been lucky they struck when they did.

…relatively speaking.

“You’re sure?” he demanded. Hammond nodded. “When?”

“Little over three years ago.”

Three years. Ra had been _dead_ for _three years?!_ Seto quickly ran through the other System Lords in his mind, trying to decide which would have had the power to pull off such an effective coup. Only Yu, Apophis, Hathor, and Heru’ur seemed to fit the candidacy. But even that was a stretch. Unless something extreme happened to push them over the edge and give them a boost in power and influence.

“Which System Lords have filled the political vacuum?” Seto demanded urgently.

“Apophis, until recently,” General Hammond said. "Since his death, we're unsure."

So the snake personified himself was dead as well. Seto sneered. Good riddance. That left Hathor and Heru'ur. The queen was conniving and clever. Heru’ur may be a cheat, but he was a force to be reckoned with. Especially when he had Hathor’s backing.

“What of Hathor and Heru’ur?” he asked. “I doubt Hathor would willingly give up her position as Head Queen of Ra’s empire. She’s perfectly capable of ruling herself. With Heru’ur as her ally, the balance of power should shift to them.”

The general chuckled and Seto began to suspect his information on the galactic political field was lacking worse than he’d first thought.

“Hathor’s dead too,” Hammond said. “SG-1 killed her a few weeks ago.”

Hathor was dead _too?!_ SG-1? Who or what was SG-1? Osiris have mercy. If SG-1 killed Hathor than-

“Did they kill Ra as well?” Seto asked softly.

Hammond didn’t have to answer verbally. His proud grin spoke volumes. For the first time since he stepped foot in this base, Seto felt afraid. He’d underestimated the humans and their apparent effectiveness against the System Lords. If they managed to kill Hathor _and_ Ra -he was still having trouble wrapping his head around that- then who knew what else they were capable of.

Wait.

“This… SG-1,” Seto said, resting a hand on the table’s surface near the handle of the Millennium Rod in case he needed to grab it before his powers reacted on instinct and emotion. “This is a team, correct?” The general nodded. “Is there a woman on this team? Blonde hair, blue eyes, was once a host to a Goa’uld?”

The general’s expression hardened dangerously and Seto took that as an affirmative.

“You should be aware that I sensed her presence in Setesh’s compound,” he said. “Had I been any other Goa’uld, I would have killed her immediately. Setesh very nearly did. I was able to distract him then. She may not be as lucky next time.”

Seto stood still, holding the general’s gaze and fighting to keep his fingers from twitching towards the smooth gold of the Millennium Rod. His words could be taken as just a warning, but touching the Rod could be taken as a threat.

The general’s gaze was old but wise and as astute as Yugi’s when the boy considered his possible moves in a duel. Appearances could be deceiving but the eyes never lied. Seto felt his nerves tingle as the silence lingered longer than he anticipated. When Hammond finally spoke once more, Seto couldn’t decide whether to sigh in relief or curse his luck.

“Why are you telling me this?”

It wasn’t a demand for information. It was a request. Hammond’s voice was calm and curious not angry and defensive. Perhaps there was a chance for a truce after all.

“Because you should be aware of the dangers involved,” Seto said. “She’s a soldier and I have no doubt she can handle herself and any enemy who comes before her.” He allowed his chin to dip. “But many might not realize she is free of the symbiote that once possessed her. Better to kill a potential spy on discovery than risk escape and betrayal.”

“That sounds like it comes from experience.” Again, Hammond spoke with calm interest. Almost like a professor subtly encouraging a shy student to give details.

“It does.” Pity Seto had no desire to give details. Some things were too hard to talk about to someone he didn’t know and barely trusted.

At least his honesty seemed to pay off. The general nodded and said, “I’ll take your warning into consideration. In the meantime, I’d like to know what brought you here in the first place.”

Ah.

“You have two disturbances here,” Seto replied. “I came here hunting them.” He crossed his arms, taking care to keep his hands visible as he did so. “I was expecting a piece of alien technology or a weapon.” Blue eyes narrowed. “Imagine my surprise when one of the disturbances walked passed me in the hallway of this base wearing the face of the little female warrior from Setesh’s compound.” He tilted his head. “I assume the other disturbance is a human as well.”

Dumbfounded, General Hammond gasped. “You can _sense_ them?”

“I can. I am not the only one either,” Seto added. Screw Pegasus. “They’re hard to miss. If you felt them like I do, you’d understand.” He glared at the general. “They do not belong here. If you’re wise, you’ll send them back to wherever it was they came from or kill them.”

Now there was righteous anger. “That won’t be happening,” Hammond said fiercely, his anger held in check. “If that’s all you came to say, then consider this truce over.”

“You misunderstand,” Seto said, steamrolling over the tail end of the general’s words. “Killing them would be a mercy.”

Hammond scoffed angrily. “How would killing them be a mercy?”

“Because you can make it quick and painless,” Seto said sternly. “Reality will not be so kind. I came here to disable or destroy a technological weapon. I decided to come to you when I realized they were Humans. A weapon in the process of being ripped apart has the capability of destroying the area around it resulting in casualties. A Human being ripped apart typically doesn’t have that extended affect. But it is… unpleasant.”

Try distressing. Even Seto had no desire to witness that. He’d seen the things the Shadows could do when driven by their own instinct. It wasn’t pretty and was always bloody.

“I won’t be killing anyone,” the general said in a tone the brooked no argument.

“Then you sentence them to a slow, painful death,” Seto said. “And I have no more reason to stay.”

He reached for his personal items before pausing on the photo. He should-

“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave,” Hammond said, sounding resigned but determined.

Seto huffed a laugh. “Keep in mind, general,” he said, picking up the Rod and slipping it back into his belt loop, “we have a common enemy. The System Lords are not welcome on this planet. If any of them cross my path,” he placed both hands on the table and leaned forward, deliberately threatening, “I _will_ kill them.”

The calculating sparkle returned to the general’s eyes. “And the people in that photo?” he asked, nodding to the printout on the table by Seto’s hand.

“These people are under my protection,” Seto said, folding the photo and tucking it back into the breast pocket of his trench coat. “Like the people on this base are under yours. I will not threaten your people, you will not threaten mine. Leave them be, and I will leave you be. Any action you and yours take against me and mine will be returned tenfold. Otherwise, I will ignore your existence.”

“So that’s it then?” Hammond said. “All this talk, and that’s it?”

Seto paused in the process of tucking the kara kesh and healing device into his pants pockets and looked up at the general in confusion. “How do you mean?”

To his surprise, the general appeared amused if resigned.

“I can’t let you leave,” Hammond said again.

“You can’t keep me here either,” Seto said.

He had someone waiting for him outside, after all. Neith’s host may be a hawk, but she was one of Seto’s children. She could be just as cunning and clever as he was. If Seto didn’t come out of this base, she would find a way in. He would almost pay to see that. It would certainly be something to reme-

He reacted before his conscious mind realized what was happening. The room abruptly darkened as he pulled the Shadows to him, his hand gripping the Rod and holding it in front of him protectively. When had he… Not important.

What _was_ that? It felt like the entire fabric of reality rippled, contorting and expanding on itself, vehemently rejecting something. The Shadows were humming with bloodthirsty intent igniting a base fear Seto hadn’t felt in a long time. The Shadows were angry and afraid and were taking matters into their own hands. Damn.

“What in hellfire?” Hammond cried, stumbling back and instinctively reaching for his hip where he must have been expecting to find a gun. He found none.

Taking a deep breath, Seto counted to three and shivered. “It would seem one of your disturbances is already feeling the effects of rejection,” he said.

He had to consciously ease his stance and replace his Rod even though every nerve in his body wanted to flinch and slink away in revulsion. The ripping sensation had only lasted a couple seconds at most, but it had been enough. Seto wouldn’t have to do anything and neither would General Hammond. It seemed the Shadows had decided the disturbances didn’t belong and were going to wipe them from existence _right now._

“Sir!” a voice called from the stairs as footsteps stomped up the steps. “Are you alr-”

The officer took one look at Seto and drew his gun. Hmm, quick draw for a soldier his age. Impressive.

“Hands where I can see them!” the soldier commanded.

“Hold your fire, Walter,” Hammond said, holding up a hand. “Care to explain yourself?” he said to Seto.

He didn’t have to.

_“General Hammond to the infirmary. I repeat, General Hammond, you’re needed in the infirmary.”_

Saved by the PA.

Seto crossed his arms and shifted his weight to something that would appear less intimidating. “Duty calls?” he said dryly.

The general glared at him. “Airman,” he snapped at the gray-haired soldier, “make sure he stays here.”

Really?

“Yes sir,” the soldier, Walter, answered sharply.

Seto leveled a heated glare in the general’s direction. He was somewhat impressed to see it had little effect. Damn it all. Hammond rushed past Walter and hurried down the stairs to the infirmary. Seto tucked his hands in his pockets and counted to sixty. Then he pressed his wrist against the cool gold of the Rod.

“Walter,” he said, startling the soldier, “escort me to the surface.”

Indecision flickered briefly in the man’s eyes behind the round glasses before vanishing. “Yes sir,” he said, holstering his gun. “This way sir.”


	16. First-ish Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daniel answers a summons not intended for him and meets a familiar face with an unfamiliar attitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This chapter fought me harder than the last one did for some reason. I literally have three other versions of this chapter half written but they all generally end up the same way. So I decided I preferred this version best. Thus, here it be. 
> 
> As usual, I somewhat edited this tonight but I'm crashing and will seriously edit it Tomorrow morning. That said, enjoy and goodnight~

That PA hadn’t been for him, but Daniel couldn’t help but sense that this was important. Maybe he could help. On the other hand, maybe he would just be in the way. Either way, he knew Dr. Fraiser would tell him to get out if she really wanted him gone. Which really should bother him since the medical doctor was much more intimidating than General Hammond ever seemed to the archaeologist. It was probably because Janet had needles.

Clutching his latest notes tightly, Daniel rushed down the hall and around the corner, nearly smacking into Chief Sergeant Walter Harrimon in the process.

“Geez, sorry Walter,” Daniel gasped, stumbling back in surprise.

“No problem, Dr. Jackson,” Walter said, holding his hands out in case Daniel needed any assistance. “Just take it easy. The world’s not ending yet.”

Daniel nodded because that was true. “Not _this_ time,” he said wryly.

Then he noticed the person standing behind Walter and maybe he was a bit presumptuous to assume it wasn’t the end of the world. Brown hair, tan skin, blue eyes like ice.

“Nephthys,” he breathed.

The stranger sneered and Daniel gulped. How…? What was _Nephthys_ doing in the SGC? How the hell had he gotten in here?

He was right behind Walter.

“Dr. Jackson?” Walter asked.

Daniel fumbled with his words. “Y-yeah, um, hey Walter, don’t freak out, but I’m gonna need you to step away from him,” he said finally.

The airman hesitated and turned around to where Nephthys stood with a frown. When he turned back he looked confused. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” he said. “I’m under orders to escort him to the surface.”

Oh really? “Whose orders?” Daniel asked, hoping his suspicions were off base.

Bad pun. Now’s not the time.

“Set’s,” Walter replied. Huh? “Now, if you’ll excus-”

“Wait. Hold on a second,” Daniel said quickly, holding up his hand, one palm open and the other full of messily scribbled notes. _“Set’s?_ Set’s dead, Walter.”

 _“Setesh_ is dead,” Nephthys said, a sly smirk appearing on his deceptively young face. _“I_ am not.”

But… No, Setesh and Set and Seth were all the same person. The Goa’uld just had many iterations of the same name, nothing too unusual there. Daniel was sure about that. Besides, Jacob and Selmak had been certain the Goa’uld in front of him -who should _not_ be in front of him- was called Nephthys, not Set.

Then again, it would explain why neither Daniel nor Sam had been able to find any patterns of cults or anything of the sort focused on Nephthys. If the Goa’uld’s name really was Set then…

“So you’re Dr. Jackson,” Neph- Set stated inquisitively. Blue eyes glanced down the corridor Daniel had just come from before locking back on the archaeologist. “You _would_ be a nerd.”

Excuse… Actually no, that was accurate. Still, “Not sure if I should take that as an insult or not,” Daniel muttered.

“Take it however you’d like,” Set said, shrugging his shoulders.

For a moment, neither of them moved or spoke. Then Set snickered.

“Aren’t you going to scream?” he asked casually, seeming more amused than annoyed by the situation.

Daniel blinked because he really should be screaming and raising the alarm because _hello_ there was a _Goa’uld_ in the SGC.

Set huffed. “I’ve already spoken to your general,” he said. “You must be on this SG-1 team, then.” Um. “Congratulations on killing Ra and Apophis. Destroying those two power houses shouldn’t be taken lightly.” Um? “Hathor was a bitch and while I won’t remotely miss her, you should be wary of Heru’ur. It’s unlikely he’ll be pleased with his mother’s death.” _Um?_

Blue eyes narrowed. “I would rather you hadn’t killed Setesh,” Set said coldly. “I would have enjoyed ripping his throat out myself.” _Oh shi-_ “But since the little woman warrior on your team crushed him to death, I’ll take that as karma taking her due and call it compensation enough.”

…oh-kay… Not what Daniel expected or knew what to do with. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the right words to voice the utter confusion he was feeling right now. So many things just happened and he did _not_ know what to do with them.

“Uh… Thank you?” he said, thoroughly befuddled.

Okay, first, General Hammond _spoke_ to Set? And the SGC _wasn’t_ up in arms about it? More importantly, Daniel didn’t know about it? Did Jack know about it? The colonel was second in command of the SGC. He should have at least been aware of a talk as important as this.

Unless it hadn’t been official.

Oh boy.

Set regarded him silently for another few seconds before rolling his eyes and snorting. “You academic types are so predictable,” he droned. “You think too much and act too slowly.” He waved dismissively. “Your general should be in the infirmary by now. Run along, little nerd.”

Daniel slammed his mouth shut and stared at Set in offended surprise as the Goa’uld and Walter strolled right past him. A few steps away, Set paused and glanced back at him with a mischievous expression.

“By the way,” he said, “you mistranslated the Anquietas. ‘Clementia’ means ‘mercy’ not ‘grace.’”

Anquietas? Daniel puzzled over the word. Anquietas. He wasn’t familiar with that word. It sounded Latinate maybe. If he went with that, then what did it sound like? Anquietas. An-quee-eh-tahs. Well, it sounded roughly similar to ‘antiquity’ which meant old or ancient or… Ancient. Daniel had been trying to translate a string of Ancient text on the chalkboard in his office. Anquietas. Antiquity. Ancient.

Clementia. Clemency. _Mercy._

Lord have mercy.

Sharp blue eyes sparkled impishly before turning away in a whirl of brown hair and a midnight blue trench coat.

“Hurry to the infirmary, Dr. Jackson,” Set called. “Or you won’t be able to say goodbye to the woman who wears the same face as the little warrior on your team.”

Sam. What was wrong with Sam? Why would she be in the infirmary? No. The _other_ Sam! How did Set know about her?

Set was leaving. He _couldn’t_ leave! He knew _Ancient_ and he knew about Sam - _both_ Sams- and… He couldn’t leave!

“Wait!” Daniel cried, running after Set.

Before he could stop and _think_ about how messed up this was and how potentially _deadly_ this could be for him, Daniel found himself clutching Set’s dark trench coat in his empty fist. Blue eyes widened and stared at Daniel’s hand in shocked disgust.

“Ah, sorry,” Daniel said quickly, removing his hand as if he’d been burned. Judging by that glare, he probably had been metaphorically burned. “I just...”

“If you wanted to be my escort that badly,” Set said in a bored tone, “you could have just said so. Walter,” he said, waiting for the airman to turn to him eagerly, “you’re-”

“Daniel!”

Oh boy.

Daniel saw the moment Set’s gaze widened in recognition. The Goa’uld looked back where he’d just come from, narrowing his eyes in annoyance the moment Jack rounded the corner. One glance at Jack and Daniel knew the colonel had recognized Set as well.

“Hey!” Jack shouted in a sharp, commanding tone, drawing his gun and aiming squarely at Set’s chest. “Daniel, Walter, get away from there,” he ordered in a voice that would not take ‘no’ for an answer.

Daniel wisely stepped back. Walter, however, did not. He actually stepped between Set and Jack, hands raised in a placating gesture.

“I can’t do that, sir,” the airman in charge of gate operations said firmly.

What?

“Walter?” Jack said, not lowering his gun, but keeping his finger away from the trigger. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”

“I know, sir,” Walter said, frowning grimly. “I still can’t do it.”

Oh. Set. Daniel looked up at Set in horrible understanding. Set was controlling Walter just like Setesh had controlled the cultists. Shit. _Damn!_ That made things complicated.

“That won’t be necessary,” Set said suddenly, removing his hands from his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest.

Huh? Walter blinked and Daniel looked at the airman in concern. Walter shook his head and looked around, starting when he saw Jack aiming a gun at him. Immediately, he raised his hands higher and gulped.

“Colonel?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

“Walter?” Jack called, frowning suspiciously. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just…” He glanced over his shoulder, and did a double take. “Wha- What are you doing-? How did you- we-”

Set just stood there and stared at the airman in apathetic disinterest before shifting his gaze back to the colonel. “Do you always greet guests with guns to the face?” he asked.

“No,” Jack retorted. “Only snakes with glowing eyes.”

A sly grin formed on Set’s face as he tilted his head in mock curiosity. “Even the Tok’ra?”

Ah. Hmm. Good point.

“Let’s see those hands,” Jack said, cautiously stepping closer.

“If you can’t see them from there,” Set said in a flat tone, tapping his obviously visible fingers on his arms, “then you must be blind.”

The colonel frowned and met eyes with Walter, jerking his head to the side. The airman obeyed the silent order, rushing past Jack to alert the base. Daniel began to move back to his allies when blue eyes pinned him to the spot.

“Daniel?” Jack said warily, taking another careful step forward. “You comin’?”

Daniel really wanted to move, to follow his friend’s instructions, but for some reason he couldn’t. Or, not _couldn’t_ so much as he didn’t _want_ to? That wasn’t right either, but close enough. Think Daniel, think.

“You said you spoke to General Hammond,” he said, earning him a sharp glance and a silent nod. Well, more like a downward tilt of the Goa’uld’s chin, but same difference. “Did he tell you about Ra and Hathor and-”

“He did,” Set said curtly.

“And you’re _glad_ they’re dead.” It may have been stated as a fact, but the nod Daniel received was a welcome confirmation. “You didn’t know they were dead before now, did you?”

Well _that_ was a judgmental glare if Daniel ever saw one.

“Right.” Set had been stuck on Earth just as long as Setesh had, most likely. Of course he wouldn’t be aware of the latest Goa’uld power houses. “Dumb question,” he muttered, ducking his head to gather his wits.

When he lifted his head again, Set was looking at him thoughtfully and it took the archaeologist a moment to remind himself to relax.

“I am here as a guest,” Set said once more just loud enough for Jack to hear even though his icy gaze never left Daniel’s face. “I have not threatened this base nor do I plan to. However,” glacial blue glanced at the colonel and flashed a brilliant gold, “as I told your commanding officer, should you attack me and mine, I will return the gesture tenfold.”

“What do you want?” Daniel asked suddenly, pulling Set’s attention back to him.

“Daniel?”

“Jack just… Just give me a second,” Daniel said, holding out a hand to forestall any further arguments from his friend. “What do you want?” he said again. “Why are you,” he gestured to the base as a whole, “here? Why did you come here?”

Something flickered in blue eyes before Set smirked. “Omoshiroi,” he murmured.

“Japanese. Ah _I don’t say good Japanese but-”_

“Please,” Set groaned in English, rolling his eyes, “do not butcher my language and I won't butcher yours.”

Ow.

At least Set still didn’t seem upset just somewhat annoyed. Wait. _His_ language?

“Come with me.”

Daniel blinked in surprise. “Uh… Where?” he countered suspiciously.

“To the surface,” Set said. “Where else.”

“No can do,” Jack said, now much closer than he’d been before. He must have used Set’s distraction to gain some ground.

“You have my word I will not touch you or harm you in any way,” Set said firmly. “Your general and I have a truce. I intend to keep it,” he shot a frustrated side glare at the colonel, “unless I have no choice but to do otherwise.”

“Why?” Daniel waited until Set’s gaze returned to him before clarifying. “Why me?”

“Because you’re interesting,” he replied simply.

He unfolded his arms and dug something out of his pocket, holding it out like some sort of offering. It was silver and metal and had what looked like finger casings with a red jewel in the… center. A ribbon device. And Set was _giving_ it to Daniel like a good faith gift.

Okay. Daniel could work with this. Hesitantly, he gingerly took the offered ribbon device from the Goa’uld and studied it. It was certainly odd-looking. It was silver instead of the usual gold and the trademark spiraling gold band that earned the device its nickname was incredibly short.

Turning it over in his hands, Daniel examined the ribbon and noticed the worn edges which must have been jagged when it was first broken. He wasn’t a metallurgist, but he’d seen his fair share of old and worn metal pieces in the archaeological field. This looked like a very old fatigue crack. Odd. Daniel didn’t know the gold colored metal the Goa’uld used for their technology could suffer fatigue cracks like this.

“Satisfied?”

“Huh?” He looked up and nodded. “Yes. Thanks.”

“Good. Then stop standing there staring like a fish out of water and move, nerd,” Set said briskly, turning on his heel and walking away.

Daniel blinked several times before he came to terms with the fact that yes, he was still in control of himself and no, Set hadn’t brainwashed him. Okay. That was strange. _Good!_ But strange, and now he was really curious.

Also, “That’s the third time you’ve called me a ‘nerd,” Daniel said, surprise rooting him to the spot.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Set said. “Nerd.”

“Um, excuse me,” Jack called, waving his gun a little. “Still here. With a gun.”

“Then either shoot and break the truce or stand there and deal with it,” Set said without bothering to turn around as he continued walking down the hallway. “Dr. Jackson,” he said, quirking his finger in a silent summons.

Then the klaxons blared and Set stopped, looking up at the flashing red lights mounted on the walls and snorted.

“Finally,” he muttered as running feet echoed in the corridor. “Your security is lacking, general.”

General? Daniel turned and, sure enough, there was General Hammond. The man was barely breathing hard but flushed nonetheless.

“I told you to stay put,” he said sternly.

“You are not my commander,” Set replied, turning fully and nodding significantly at the gun still in Jack’s hands. “Do you endorse this?”

Suddenly, the ribbon device in Daniel’s hand felt heavy. Set had basically disarmed himself and was still not attacking even though the threat was present and looming. Quickly, Daniel mulled over what little he knew of Set, ignoring the tense conversation going on around him.

Maybe he wasn’t looking at this correctly. Setesh had called Set ‘Nephthys’ and Set answered to it. That meant the name was legitimate in some way. What if Nephthys and _Set_ were the same person but two sides of the same person.  

“Oh,” he breathed in realization. “Oh that makes so much sense.”

Well, not completely, but it made the picture a bit clearer. Why Setesh was the only Egyptian god to have two very distinct personifications depending on how far back Daniel dug and which myth Daniel studied. The most prominent was the personification of chaos and outright evil, actively working against the other gods and causing general mayhem. Nephthys was almost always seen as a counter to that version, keeping him in check and balancing out his misdeeds, in a sense. The other version was chaotic and strange but ultimately loyal to the pharaoh. Nephthys was closely associated with this version. _Very_ closely associated.

“Was Nephthys ever your name?” Daniel asked abruptly, startling everyone present by accidentally interrupting the general.

Blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, but without any hint of potential backlash. Yet, where a System Lord would have demanded an explanation, this Goa’uld chose to remain silent and listen before acting.

“Sorry, uh, just…” Ugh, where to start voicing his mismatched thoughts in a way that would make sense to someone not in his own mind. “Setesh called you Nephthys but you say your name is Set. You still answered to Nephthys. Are they both your name?”

“Why do you want to know?” Set asked, sounding wary but intrigued.

“I think they are,” Daniel said.

Nephthys was a protector and a warrior and the Set she was associated with was loyal if chaotic. They were both loyal to the pharaoh who was almost always a human who was treated like a god. But the Pharaoh was always human. Even the Goa’uld Ra never set himself up as a pharaoh in the strictest sense. He was always a god first, pharaoh second. The pharaoh Set and Nephthys were loyal to was a human first, a god second.

“General,” Daniel said urgently, “why did Set come here? What did he tell you?”

“He could sense our inter-reality guests,” Hammond said.

Nephthys had a power no Goa’uld could replicate. Set was chaotic.

“My word stands,” Set said. “Kill them or send them back to where they came from.”

“Excuse me?” Jack said, lowering his weapon.

“Those are your choices,” Set said firmly.

“No one’s killing anyone,” Hammond said. “And if you’d stayed where I told you to, I would have told you we’ve come up with a solution.”

Some of the tension in Set’s form eased. The shadows Daniel hadn’t realized were there before faded from his expression.

“You’re sending them back then,” he said. “Wise choice.”

The general shook his head. “You’re familiar with technology.”

If Daniel didn’t know better, he would have sworn that was a pout on Set’s face. A sophisticated pout, granted, but a pout nonetheless.

“Think you could help us find our way around Asgard technology?” Hammond asked.

Blue eyes widened in surprise but it was Jack who spoke.

“Sir?” Jack leaned closer to the general in a mockery of confidentiality. “You do realize you just asked a Goa’uld for help, right?”

General Hammond smiled and Daniel realized he hadn’t been the only one to notice Set’s idiosyncrasies. “No,” Hammond said. “I think I just asked a Tok’ra for help.”

Glacial blue gleamed.

Oh boy.


	17. Conditional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seto and the SGC add official conditions to the truce, some good some... less so, and Daniel passes a test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** So I attribute the delay of posting this to Hurricane Michael. It was nasty. The death toll is currently at 13 and counting, the town of Mexico Beach where Michael made landfall is basically obliterated, not a single building on the Tyndall Air Force Base is livable, high water rescues are still happening, thousands are still without power... That thing made landfall as a Category 4 major hurricane. That's the strongest hurricane to hit the panhandle in history, I believe. They need all the prayers, good vibes, and support they can get.
> 
> On a somewhat amusing and light note, Hurricane Leslie is heading right for Portugal and Spain. Amusing because that's so weird??? They don't usually do that.  
>    
> I'm done geeking out. Here's the chapter.  
> 

Tok’ra. Well, he supposed he was a Tok’ra in the strictest sense. He snickered.

“That would depend,” he said, not bothering to hide his interest. “What would this technology be used for? I may not be in my office, but I do still represent Kaiba Corporations and we don’t build or distribute weapons to the military of any country anymore.”

General Hammond’s grin wasn’t big but it was quietly confidant. “Not a weapon,” he said patiently. “A power generator.”

Which could be used for a weapon.

“The Asgard gave it to us to use to contact them using the Stargate,” Hammond continued. “The problem is it was only designed to be used once.”

“Implying it’s already been used once. Why do you need it now?” Seto asked with a thoughtful frown. “I’m guessing this has something to do with this solution you came up with to deal with those disturbances.”

Elderly eyes as sharp as needles narrowed at the way Seto referred to the inter-reality travelers, but Seto ignored it.

“We are sending them back,” the general said firmly. “But they came here because their Earth has been taken over by the Goa’uld. Sending them back there with their world as it is now would be a death sentence.”

“Effectively solving the problem for good,” Set drawled. “Except you let your bleeding heart interfere and decided to lend them a helping hand.”

“Tok’ra?” the colonel, Jack, said voicing all of his doubts in the single word. The general sighed and refused to rise to Seto’s jab. Grumbling under his breath, the colonel lowered his gun and spoke.

“We fix the generator so it can be used to contact the Asgard of their Earth,” he said, waving his hand to one side, “have them stop the Goa’uld’s invasion, we come back,” he continued, waving in the other direction, “and they stay there.” He shrugged. “Everyone wins.”

True. It sounds too easy, though. Still, Seto always did enjoy watching a System Lord be taken down a notch or two, particularly when force was involved. He may not like the Asgard, but he would enjoy watching the little gray bastards eradicate the System Lords.

Nevertheless, “The Asgard may have helped you in recent years,” Seto said sternly, “but they were useless to us 5,000 years ago.” He lifted his chin and looked down his nose at the colonel. “What makes you think the Asgard in their world will be as willing to help them as they are here and now?”

“Hey,” the colonel said, holstering his gun and grinning carelessly, “they’re not that bad.”

“Debatable.”

Still, Seto considered the offer seriously. If he helped, then he had the opportunity to have a close-up view of the Humans in charge of the Chappa’ai. Theoretically, he could have access to the Chappa’ai itself. If he played his cards right, he might even have the chance to travel through it. That would be an experience. If he was unlucky, or lucky depending on how he looked at it, he might even see a familiar face out there among the stars.

Someone like Heru’ur.

The twinge in his chest at the thought of the System Lord was unexpected and pointless. The snake had lied, cheated, and betrayed him. He’d paid dearly for it. Seto didn’t regret his actions then or now.

“Fine. I’ll help,” he said, forcing his meandering thoughts to the back of his mind where they belonged. “With conditions,” he added with a smirk. “First, I’m allowed to leave when we’re finished.”

“That can be arranged,” Hammond said. “On the understanding we have a way to contact you.”

“Naturally,” Seto nodded in acquiescence. “Second, I want passage through the Chappa’ai. Not to stay,” he said quickly, holding up a hand to forestall the arguments he knew were coming. “Earth is my home and I have no intention of abandoning my home, by brother, or my company. But,” he lowered his hand, “I am interested in learning more about these… Tok’ra.”

“That can be arranged,” the general said hesitantly. “Although I think it would be best if a Tok’ra representative came here.”

“No,” Seto snapped sharply. “If they truly are who and what they say they are, then they will have nothing to fear from me. You have my word,” he added solemnly.

“I can’t promise that,” Hammond said. “But I can promise to pass on the message.”

“Good enough.” Now for the fun part. “My last request is a non-negotiable. I want to see Heru’ur.”

“Not gonna happen,” the colonel said.

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Seto said curtly. “Heru’ur and I have a history.”

“We heard,” General Hammond said.

“I have something of his,” Seto said, allowing himself a sly grin. “He left in such a hurry, he was unable to retrieve it. Then we sealed the Chappa’ai and he never returned. I would very much like to return it to him.”

“Oh my god.”

Seto glanced curiously at Daniel and was intrigued by the archaeologist’s unnaturally pale face.

“Oh, that I would _pay_ to see,” the colonel said.

Why did he suddenly sound _supportive_ of Seto’s demand? What did they know about his history with Heru’ur that would garner such an unusual reaction?

“Could we give some conditions as well?” Daniel asked suddenly drawing everyone’s attention.

Within reason. “Only three,” Seto said, nodding. “I had three conditions, you have three.”

“Fair’s fair,” Daniel agreed. “You speak Ancient. Could you help me with translations?”

“Ancient?” Seto repeated.

“You called it Anquietas,” the archaeologist clarified.

Oh. “I don’t speak it fluently,” Seto said slowly, “and my accent makes it difficult to pronounce some words.”

“But you understand it.”

“Passably,” Seto agreed.

“Teach me what you know,” Daniel all but begged, his eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement. “Please. I’m… I’m trying but I have very little to work with and-”

“Fine.”

“-it’s a pain to constantly look up- What?” Daniel gasped, eyes widening. “Really?”

Seto shrugged. “As long as you understand I don’t speak it fluently and that I haven’t spoken it much for 5,000 years-” he tilted his chin down in acquiescence, “-then I’ll help.”

Daniel looked like he was about to explode from excitement. It was disturbingly reminiscent of the Pharaoh reborn’s lapdog. What had Seto just agreed to?

When the general spoke once more, there was a pleased smile on his face. “If we need assistance fighting the System Lords or dealing with technology we aren’t familiar with-”

“I’ll help you,” Seto agreed readily. “On the understanding that you acknowledge I am a CEO of a multimillion-dollar business. I can’t just drop everything and come to your aid. But I will help how, when, and where I can. Within reason. I refuse to build weapons for you.”

“Understandable,” Hammond said, nodding.

Good. “Your last condition?” Seto said.

“The truth.” At Seto’s distrustful frown, the general clarified. “Don’t lie to us. Tell us the truth.”

“I can’t do that,” Seto said slowly. “You can’t either. ‘Classified’ is one of the military’s favorite words. Why should I tell you everything when I know you won’t reciprocate?”

“Not everything,” Daniel said, stepping between Seto and the general.

Incidentally, the archaeologist was now standing in the direct line of fire should things go south. He seemed to be aware of it too if the placating hands were any indicator. It was slightly amusing to see the archaeologist still hadn’t let go of his fistful of hand scribbled notes. Seriously, what a nerd.

“Just…” Daniel pressed his lips together tightly as his thoughts raced behind his eyes. “Just tell us what you can,” he said finally. “Don’t lie to us and we,” he gestured to himself and the military officers behind him, “we won’t lie to you.”

Seto lifted a single eyebrow in blatant skepticism. “I don’t trust you,” he said plainly, eyeing the colonel.

“Right back at you,” the colonel shot back.

“Jack,” Daniel groaned.

“Daniel.”

Seto snorted and Daniel flushed.

“What if you just trust me?” the archaeologist said, meeting Seto’s eyes calmly. “I’m not military. Anything you tell me will be in confidence.”

“Daniel?”

“Let me do this Jack,” Daniel said. “I’ll listen to what you say and unless it has something to do with the mission at hand, I won’t tell anyone. If I have to tell someone, I’ll let you know first and I’ll do my best to give as little detail as possible.”

That was a lot to consider. Seto weighed the pros and cons before sighing. “As much as I would like to agree to those terms,” he began, glancing at the general, “I don’t think you have the authority to make conditions like that.”

“I’ll be the one Daniel briefs if he deems it necessary,” General Hammond said firmly.

“Acceptable,” Seto said.

Hammond grinned and Seto inwardly groaned. “You’ll also need a physical-”

_“Nani?!”_

“-so I’ll add Dr. Fraiser to that list of trusted people,” the general said, smirking at the offended shock on Seto’s face. “We need a baseline of what’s normal for you so we know if something happens that’s abnormal.”

“Not. Happening,” Seto said in clipped tones, focusing the full force of his glare on the general.

“Doctor-patient confidentiality,” Daniel muttered, subtly glancing up at Seto. “She’s legally bound to keep everything you tell her a secret unless she deems it dangerous to your health or ours.”

She?

“You aren’t the first Goa’uld she’s tended to, you know,” the colonel drawled.

Still.

“Please.”

Hmm? Glancing back at the archaeologist, Seto considered his options. If he allowed himself to submit to a physical examination, it would bring back less than pleasant memories. He saw the logic behind having a solid baseline to test against if anything changed, but he could also see how that medical knowledge could be too easily weaponized and used against him. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened. A Goa’uld queen’s anatomy was one of the many reasons why they were too often taken advantage of.

On the other hand, if this Dr. Fraiser woman had any motherly instincts in her at all, then maybe she could prove useful. It had been a very long time since he’d had reliable and trustworthy help when he started getting broody and needed to spawn once more. At the very least, the doctor could keep his host stable when he had to leave it beforehand and help maintain the tank he would need to stay in during the process of spawning. He might even be able to take his time instead of laying in a hurry. That would be a welcome change.

He might have trouble finding new hosts for his children, but that had always been a bit of a problem. Thank Ra for overly helpful and supportive older children. However much he groaned about the brood of crows, it had been relatively easy to get them new hosts. They would readily bring them to him. He doubted it would be that easy here. Relatively speaking.

“Fine,” he said reluctantly. “But I do have to go to the surface before I do anything else. I have someone waiting for me. If I’m going to be staying here for longer than I intended, then she needs to be aware of the change in plans before she takes matters into her own hands-” well, talons, “and breaks in here. If you think I caused an uproar, I’ve got nothing on her.”

Seto slipped in without much of a fuss. A bent mind here and there and it was unnervingly simple. Neith? She would shriek and fly and rake her talons across every surface until she found her way to him. Such was the nature of his children who preferred birds of prey over the more terrestrial predators.

“I’ll take Dr. Jackson with me,” Seto continued. “If he’s going to be one of the three pinnacles of trust here, then we might as well start now.” When the military men seemed unconvinced, Seto rolled his eyes. “You can track my progress with your security cameras if you must. But only Dr. Jackson can accompany me. The fewer people, the better.”

“How far do you intend to go?” General Hammond asked warily.

“Just to the entrance,” Seto answered honestly. “I won’t even go as far as the parking lot.” He smirked. “Keep in mind general, I’ve lived here for thousands of years without detection or desire to do anything except exist. I have no reason to change that, not even now.”

After a second or two of thought, the general agreed. “Point taken,” he said. “I’ll have Colonel O’Neill meet you by the elevator in half an hour. By then we should have the generator ready to be worked on.”

Half an hour. Plenty of time.

Seto grinned. “You have a deal.”

* * *

Set was unusually quiet during the elevator ride to the upper levels and the walk to the entrance. None of the personnel stopped them, but Daniel did notice how many of them glanced their way with suspicion and unspoken interest. There might be a few more guns visible than he remembered too. General Hammond must have given them some censored warning ahead of time in case anyone got too curious. This alliance was too new to test it seriously right now.

Be that as it may, he still felt himself breathe a sigh of relief when he finally stepped out into the afternoon sun. It was cool up here and the air was clear and crisp. The sky was a deep blue speckled by a few stray puffies that clustered into larger storm clouds farther away. The sun was blindingly bright after so many hours in the man-made fluorescent lights of the SGC. He would probably need a couple Tylenol when they went back underground.

Set stepped out of the shadow of the mountain and into the bright sunlight. The wind rustled his long coat as he looked around. Daniel also looked around for anyone or anything that possibly stood out. Set was here to meet someone and Daniel would be the first to admit he was curious.

Wait. Why was he looking up?

Brown eyebrows flew up in surprise when Set let out a long, shrill whistle. Who called a person like that? Only animals answered to a… whistle…

Daniel stared in awe as a gray and white hawk swooped down from the upper branches of a nearby tree. The bird halted in midair above them, flapping its wings quickly to maintain the hover as it observed the two of them. It couldn’t be.

Set let out two, short whistles and lifted an arm. The hawk called back and swooped down, extending its talons to grasp Set’s arm. It twittered and fluffed its feathers, lifting its wings slightly to catch a breeze. Set stood and patiently listened to the bird’s vocalizations while running his fingers gently down the white feathers of the hawk’s chest. The sharp beak clacked and nipped lightly at his fingers, chirped, then did the same to Set’s chin.

After indulging the bird’s desires for a couple seconds, Set leaned his head away and whispered to it in Goa’uld. This is what they came up for? A pet?

No. Think Daniel. Hawks weren’t pets and there were no tresses or any hint of the hawk being domesticated in any way. Other than the fact it had come at Set’s call and was allowing itself to be petted.

“This is Neith.”

Startled, Daniel jerked his gaze away from the odd bird to the Goa’uld, err Tok’ra. “What?”

Frowning, he looked back at the hawk which was studying him with two orange-gold eyes. The bird tilted its head and chittered softly.

“Hold out your arm,” Set commanded.

“Uh, okay.”

Where was the harm? Actually, another look at those talons and Daniel took back that question. That’s where the harm was. But he was curious, so he lifted his right arm. The thick SGC jacket he wore would protect his skin from those razor sharp talons. Hopefully.

Set approached and held out his arm towards Daniel’s encouraging the hawk to hop from one perch to the other. The hawk twittered and examined Daniel’s arm before flapping its wings and settling on his arm. Even through the thick jacket, Daniel could feel the prickle of sharp talons. But strangely, it didn’t bother him at all. It was actually thrilling to have a bird on his arm.

He lifted a finger to stroke the bird’s chest feathers when he froze and glanced at Set. “Can… Is it okay if I…?”

“If she allows it,” Set answered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hesitantly, keeping an eye on the hawk’s hooked beak, Daniel pressed his curled fingers lightly against white feathers. So soft. The hawk chirped and watched him through those eyes.

They flashed gold.

Stunned, Daniel froze stiff. Goa’uld. The hawk was a Goa’uld. How?

“Neith, behave,” Set chided like a mother disciplining a child.

Mother. Nephthys was a Goa’uld queen. Set and Nephthys were the same person. That meant Set was a Goa’uld queen and queens made other Goa’ulds. The Goa’uld inside the hawk was-

“She likes you,” Set said, his voice casual and he reached out to scratch the back of the bird’s head. “Neith is one of my oldest. Of those still alive, that is. My children are fully capable of taking humans as hosts, they just prefer not to.” Blue eyes pinned Daniel in place. “Consider this a test.” Uh. “Whenever I come here, I won’t be alone. Should anything happen to them, I will personally punish the person responsible.”

“That sounds more like a threat than a test,” Daniel said cautiously.

Set shrugged. “Wouldn’t you do the same if it was your child who was harmed?” he countered.

Shau’ri. Skaara.

“Yes,” Daniel answered solemnly. “I would.”

Eyes as blue as glacial ice softened at the corners before settling back on the hawk.

“What kind of hawk is she?” Daniel asked.

“White-tailed kite,” Set replied. “She has a strong preference for them.”

A kite. Kites were associated with Nephthys. Their cries were said to sound like the distressed moans of mourning women.

“Do all of your… children have animals as hosts?” he asked.

Set nodded. “I never allowed them to take humans as hosts,” he said. “I prefer them to be wild and free, unbound by the morals, ethics, cultures, and expectations of Humanity. Besides,” he added with a sly grin, “some of their hosts are even protected by the laws of Humans.”

His grin faded. “Dr. Jackson, I give you my word. None of my children have ever taken Humans as hosts. They are capable of it but I never allowed them to and now they don’t want to. We are no threat to you unless you make us a threat.”

Daniel nodded. He licked his lips.

“Did I pass the test, Set?” he asked when they were back in the elevator on the way down to sublevel 28.

Blue eyes flickered to him briefly before Set snorted. “Call me Kaiba,” he said.


	18. Generating Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which O'Neill is suspicious, Seto witnesses something he really wished he hadn't, and Sam has questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Pardon the punny chapter title. I am a sucker for puns. I somehow managed to write this before 1:30 pm. I'm not sure how I did that, but I did. That said, I am now going to work on my thesis. My reward shall be uploading this chapter tonight. Why? Because I can. ^_~

O’Neill didn’t trust the Goa’uld as far as he could throw them. He swore he never would. After everything he’d seen them do, after everything he’d lost to them, _hell_ after everything his _team_ had lost to them, he didn’t think he could _ever_ trust the Goa’uld. Not even the Tok’ra. However much those slimy bastards claimed they weren’t Goa’uld, they certainly still acted slippery and their arrogance… Whoa, don’t get him started on that. They weren’t as bad as the System Lords, true, but they were damn close.

Nephthys or Set or whatever the hell this newest snake preferred to be called claimed to be a Tok’ra. Bullshit. Okay, maybe half bullshit. From what Jack had seen so far, the guy did act more like a Tok’ra than a System Lord. But that didn’t mean much. So Set was less of a powerful, manipulative bitch than Hathor and Apophis, but he was still just as arrogant as every snake Jack had ever met. Bar none.

It worried Jack how interested Daniel was in Set. It bothered him more how interested the Goa’uld was in Daniel. Danny’s loss to the Goa’uld was much more personal than Jack’s had been. Honestly, there were times Jack wondered how the archaeologist managed to keep fighting. Then he remembered his own son and the pain returned and he _knew_.

Spite fueled by vindictive vengeance was a strong force to be reckoned with. Dr. Daniel Jackson may be a paper pusher but he wasn’t a pushover. Daniel was an academic who favored talking and learning over violence. Jack may be a colonel in the U.S. Air Force but he understood the value of those traits. Even if it gave him a headache more often than not.

When the elevator doors slid open, Jack slapped a careless grin on his face. The Goa’uld in a boy’s body -he did _not_ want to think about how old the kid was when the Goa’uld took him- was as calm and unflappable as ever. Sharp blue eyes gave him a cursory glance before dismissing him. Typical.

“Hello to you too,” Jack drawled. “Hope the ride wasn’t too boring.”

The Goa’uld rolled its eyes and ignored him.

“I need Tylenol,” Daniel groaned, removing his glasses to rub his eyes.

“You okay, Danny?” Jack asked, keeping his voice light despite the genuine worry.

To his relief, Daniel replaced his glasses and nodded. He didn’t look hurt or brainwashed or stressed. Actually, he looked fascinated, like he’d seen a shiny new wall of hieroglyphics to translate. Wonder what that was all about?

“Did you meet your friend?” Jack asked the Goa’uld.

“We did,” was the curt reply. “She’ll stay out of things for now.”

Not that Jack was overly concerned about that or anything but he supposed one less possible Goa’uld to deal with was a good thing. Although, he thought back to the security camera footage from the entrance to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, he hadn’t seen anyone meet them. Besides that hawk.

He had questions, but he wasn’t going to press until after the Goa’uld was gone and he could get the general and his team, Danny included, alone.

Speaking of Danny. “Daniel, why don’t you go join Kawalsky,” he said, patting his friend on the shoulder. “He’s waiting for you by the Quantum Mirror.”

“Oh! Sure.” Daniel turned, then hesitated and said, “Thanks, Kaiba.”

Kaiba?

The Goa’uld stared at Daniel in slight surprise before huffing. “Run along, nerd.”

Nerd?

Jack watched the archaeologist smother a smile and hustle down the hall to the room where the Quantum Mirror was stored. That was unexpected. Maybe he shouldn’t have dismissed possible brainwashing as quickly as he had.

“Nerd?” he repeated, glancing at the Goa’uld.

“He fits the definition,” was the dry reply. “The Asgard generator?”

Yeah. Jack was still wondering how to explain that part of the deal. While General Hammond hadn’t actually lied to the Goa’uld, because the generator was of Asgard and Ancient design, it certainly didn’t look like it. Ah screw it. He liked fireworks anyway.

“This way, Kaiba,” he said, dully ignoring the sharp glare he could feel burning into his back as he led the way. He really hoped the general had briefed the Carters on this turn of events.

* * *

He heard muffled voices coming from the room on the right before he and the colonel arrived. He was too far to recognize them yet, but one sounded like it belonged to a female. He hesitated when he felt his Shadows retreating from the room and clinging to him. The closer he got, the tighter they clung until it felt like he was wading through mud just to walk. What a nuisance. That meant at least one of the disturbances was in that room. Fabulous.

There was a moment of silence then the female voice returned and this time, Seto could make out the words.

“Well if it’s powered by the energy module of a staff weapon, then why doesn’t it-”

“Blow up!”

Hold on. He knew that voice. Voic _es._ There were two speakers, he’d heard both voices distinctly. But they were identical. And his Shadows _hated_ one of them. Damn his luck.

“My best guess,” the little warrior’s said sounding both enthusiastic and frustrated, “is that the device creates a modulated dampening field around the liquefied naquadah.”

So the little warrior was both a soldier _and_ a scientist. Fascinating.

But however interesting it seemed, working with liquid naquadah was never easy. Naquadah was highly unstable, especially in liquid form. One strike in just the right place and a broken staff weapon would explode, killing the Jaffa wielding it and anyone unfortunate enough to be too close. It was a fact Seto and his fellow High Priests had utilized often in their battle against the System Lords so long ago. What were the illicit twins doing with something so unstable?

Seto stepped into the room behind the colonel and fought back a flinch when he saw the little warrior and her long-haired twin deep in conversation. Trying to look anywhere _but_ the thing wearing a familiar face standing there talking, Seto shifted his gaze to the table where the bare remains of a sophisticated device lay.

Odd. That hunk of metal and wires looked more Human than Asgardian. Stepping around the colonel, Seto moved through the darker edges of the room so he could see the device from the other side of the table the two women leaned on. All the while, he listened carefully to their conversation.

“Which controls the energy transfer to the capacitors,” the female disturbance said, picking up where the little warrior left off. “So maybe-”

Seto moved closer to the table and studied the device carefully. Definitely Human in make. However, on closer inspection he had to admit it wasn’t Human by design. Perhaps it was Asgardian based technology built by a Human using Human-made components. That would explain the slap-dash appearance, bare wires, rough metal exterior, and all.

It wasn’t an Asgardian generator but it was an Asgardian _designed_ generator. The general hadn’t lied exactly, but Seto still felt like he’d gotten the short end of the stick. He’d been tricked. The thought irked him. The only solace he had was the fact that even though this device was of Human make, it was of alien design. At least he would have something to fiddle with.

“-the modulation is thrown out of whack each time it’s turned off,” the female disturbance continued, gaining enthusiasm as she did so.

“That’s exactly what I thought!” the little warrior cried in excitement, turning in her chair to fully face her counterpart. “But how do you even begin to recalibrate a field that you can’t even generate in the first place?”

Well, if the generator used the liquid naquadah from a staff weapon as a power source and needed to contain the radioactivity while maintaining a steady flow of energy to generate a stable power output then, “You would need to know the ratio of the decay rate of naquadah relative to the energy output,” he said, startling the two women.

Two sets of near identical blue eyes whipped to him, but Seto only met the gaze of the little warrior. A split second after she saw his face, her excitement vanished and she stood from her chair, reaching for a weapon that wasn’t strapped to her side.

“Easy major,” Colonel O’Neill said from his place by the doorway. “He’s here to help apparently.”

“Sir, that’s-”

“Seto Kaiba,” Seto said, keeping his hands in his pockets. “And I’m here as a guest. Your general and I have a truce. Though I understand you already have an alliance with the Tok’ra, so I doubt my involvement would change much.”

The little warrior’s blue eyes narrowed for a brief second before widening in understanding. “You’re Tok’ra,” she gasped.

Was that _hope_ in her eyes? Why would that be?

“That’s what the general says,” O’Neill said, striding into the room to lean casually on the computer set up on the corner of the table. “We’re supposed to play nice.”

Somewhat mollified, the little warrior relaxed her stance. She didn’t let her guard down entirely, which was wise, but she did appear to more readily accept Seto’s presence. Curious, Seto tilted his head and focused on his naquadah sense. Her signature was faint, almost entirely drowned out by the presence of the Chappa’ai, but he could feel her if he paid close attention.

“Was it a Tok’ra that possessed you?” he asked.

Remembered pain flashed through blue eyes and Seto had his answer before she ever spoke. “It was, yes,” the little warrior replied in a voice that held strong.

Deciding to change the subject, Seto smirked. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself, little warrior?”

The woman’s face scrunched in defiance. “Major Samantha Carter,” she said. “There a reason why you called me ‘little’?”

“I’m taller than you,” Seto replied.

“That doesn’t make me any less of a warrior,” she countered.

“Never said it did,” Seto said. “The finest warrior I ever knew was shorter than me, by a lot.”

The memory of the Pharaoh’s downright ridiculous lack of stature filled his mind and Seto tried not to roll his eyes. He would never understand how the idiot could be so short. Osiris, even his reincarnation was short.

Maj. Carter nodded slowly. “Call me Sam,” she said, pointedly not extending her hand.

“Kaiba,” Seto said, keeping his hands in his pockets. Neither trusted the other enough for a handshake yet.

“And I’m Dr. Carter,” the disturbance said, nodding.

“With all due respect,” Seto said coldly, finally looking at the disturbance, “your very presence is an offense to me. I would appreciate it if you didn’t speak to me unless you have to.”

The light drained from the woman’s eyes and the major spoke up. “That wasn’t necessary,” she snapped.

“On the contrary,” Seto countered in the same tone, “if you felt her the way I do, you wouldn’t trust her to breathe on her own let alone allow her to roam free.” He lifted his chin and stared at the disturbance in open disgust. “They hate you. You don’t belong. I’m helping to fix the generator so you get out of this reality faster.” He smirked. “If you get the chance to destroy a System Lord or two in the process, then it’ll be worth it.”

“Alright, alright,” the colonel said, waving an arm between the two sides before the argument could fly out of control. “Ladies, please.”

He looked significantly at Seto when he said that. Seto wasn’t sure whether to be offended by the insinuation or not.

“Look, we all want to get you home safe,” O’Neill said gently, looking at the disturbance. “How we do it and for what reasons don’t really matter right now.” That was an exasperated glare thrown Seto's way. “We all have the same goal. So let’s work together and make it happen, shall we?”

Maj. Carter sagged. “Yes sir,” he said, with an annoyed glance at Seto.

“And you,” O’Neill said to Seto specifically, “you’re a guest. Act like one.”

Why? Seto sighed and focused his attention back on the generator. The Shadows clinging to him as tightly as they were was incredibly distracting. It was almost painful.

“You said something about the decay rate of naquadah,” Dr. Carter said hesitantly, glancing at Seto with wide, hurt eyes.

Obelisk, grant him patience. “The ratio of the decay rate of naquadah relative to the energy output,” Seto said.  “Now unless one of you happens to know what either of those are, we’ll have no choice but to go the trial-by-error route and hope we don’t blow ourselves up.”

“That doesn’t sound pleasant,” O’Neill muttered under his breath.

No, it didn’t. But the truth was rarely pleasant.

With a heavy sighed, the colonel looked at the two women. “You two Carters,” he glanced dryly at Seto, “and Tok’ra,” he almost made that sound like an insult, “gonna be able to figure this out?”

Sam and Dr. Carter looked at each other, then back at O’Neill and said in the exact same voice with the exact same inflections, “We’ll figure it out.”

Seto blinked. Then his chest constricted as if something was crushing his lungs, his heart pounded uselessly in his veins, and he was yanked back against the far wall. Bonds he could feel and almost see held him there firmly filling him with enough _fear, rejection, hate_ to drown out his saner thoughts. What?

For a fleeting moment, he registered shock on the Humans’ faces, then reality _twisted_ and he had to fight not to throw up all over the floor. Dr. Carter’s eyes bugged and she gasped, her pale hands grasping the edge of the work table with white-knuckled intensity as her face _ripped apart!_ Screams that were half audible, distorted by the contorting fabric of reality were tattered and ragged as if simultaneously whispered in his ear and screamed from a far away mountainside. Dr. Carter’s body blurred and warped as the Shadows helped reality attempt to _remove_ her from it like a stomach convulsing to get rid of bad food.

Then, as quickly as it started, it stopped. Seto could breathe again. His pulse still pounded in his neck and chest but the constricting hold the Shadows had on him eased from something binding and painful to something more fearful and familiar like the arms of a frightened child. If that frightened child had the ability to rip someone apart molecule by molecule.

Gasping, Seto slumped against the wall unable to tear his gaze away from the now solid form of Dr. Carter. He could hear the roar of his rushing blood in his ears. He had _no_ desire to experience that again. Or _witness_ that.

Sam was rubbing Dr. Carter’s shoulders as the disturbance shuddered and gasped, no doubt trying to center herself after she’d nearly been torn apart by the fabric of reality. But her blue eyes were fixed on Seto as were O’Neill’s wide green.

“You knew it was coming,” Sam said.

There were so many questions in those few words, Seto didn’t even know where to begin. He just nodded and straightened, keeping his distance from the table for the time being.

“I assume this is what Hammond meant when he said you could ‘sense’ them,” O’Neill said, all humor and anger gone from his voice. There might have even been concern there. Probably not.

“It is,” Seto said after swallowing over his dry throat. “This reality is rejecting her, colonel. And it’s doing so  _vehemently_. If you kill her and the other one now, you save them from a long, slow, incredibly painful death as the fabric of this universe literally tears them apart on the molecular level. Or you send them back and the problem will cease.”

Dr. Carter coughed, staggering as she regained her balance. With a deep breath, she straightened and nodded. “I’m okay now,” she said in a voice that did nothing to reassure anyone. “Let’s just… get this over with.”

Seto hesitantly moved back to the table, keeping a wary eye on Dr. Carter as he did so. “As I said before,” he said, forcefully putting a cap on his Shadow-induced illness to concentrate on the problem at hand, “unless either of you know the decay rate of naquadah, we’ll need to calculate that first.”

“You don’t know it?” Dr. Carter asked, no judgement in her voice, only curiosity and faint disappointment.

“I haven’t had a need for that knowledge for 5,000 years, doctor,” Seto replied. “It’s useless to me.”

Sam bit her lip. “I might actually know what it is,” she said.

“You do?” Seto said, frowning in surprise.

She nodded. “I learned to calculate it when I learned about our new naquadah generator.”

“You have a naquadah generator?” Seto said, lifting an eyebrow, reluctantly impressed.

“On that note, I’ll just...” the colonel pointed to the door. “Play nice kids.”

With a backhanded wave, O’Neill stepped out of sight. Probably to go report the incident to the general. Seto flattened both hands on the cool, metal surface of the work table and willed the growing headache away. This was definitely going to be a long day.

* * *

She could feel him if she focused. Kaiba -wow that would take some getting used to- was a quiet worker. If she couldn’t sense him, she might have forgotten he was even here. He rarely broke the contemplative silence that fell over the room once they really got started on fixing the generator. He definitely had an engineering background if nothing else. Everything he touched and did was calculated and precise.

Once they had what they needed, the three of them had set to work rebuilding the generator. Dr. Carter hummed every now and then and Sam caught herself doing the same. But Kaiba was utterly silent. It was slightly disconcerting.

Which brought to mind something she hadn’t really noticed earlier. When Kaiba spoke, his voice never deepened or echoed like it had in Setesh's compound. It retained its human quality. Again, if she couldn’t sense the naquadah in him and _knew_ he was a Goa’uld, err Tok’ra, she would never have suspected he had a symbiote in his head.

His eyes hadn’t glowed once either.

Sam had a lot of questions and she doubted she was the only one. Now wasn’t the time, but after… If Kaiba really was a Tok’ra, then why hadn’t the actual Tok’ra known about him? More to the point, if Selmak was the oldest living Tok’ra, then how come he hadn’t known Kaiba was a Tok’ra?

Selmak was at least 2,000 years old, but Kaiba had implied he’d lived over 5,000 years. As far as Sam knew, the only way to accomplish that without changing hosts was a sarcophagus. Seth hadn’t had one so he’d jumped from host to host every 400 or so years. Sam suspected Kaiba hadn’t used a sarcophagus, but she couldn’t be sure without outright asking. However, based on his actions and mannerisms, she doubted it.

She knew from interacting with the System Lords and observing Daniel’s personality change after exposure to the device that the sarcophagus affected the mind of the user. The addictive qualities of the sarcophagus and subsequent withdrawal symptoms were the main reason why the SGC hadn’t made it a priority to attain one for their own use. It was too risky.

That still left the question of how Kaiba, or Nephthys, could be a Tok’ra if the oldest Tok’ra had only heard of Nephthys in reference to the System Lords. Unless he wasn’t Tok’ra in the sense he belonged to the official rebellion so much as he was ‘against Ra’ or against the System Lords. If that was the case, then was Nephthys the only Goa’uld to turn Tok’ra of their own accord? Were there more Goa’uld out there willing to change their minds? If so, how would Sam and the SGC find them and convince them to help and not kill them before they had a chance to decide?

This whole thing was a brand new can of worms and Sam was strangely looking forward to sifting through it. At the very least, it would give her another excuse to see her dad again. She was always in the mood for that. With a quiet smile, she turned her attention back to the job at hand.

An hour or so later, Dr. Carter flipped the switch and the generator hummed to life.


	19. Cascade Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seto doesn't say 'good luck', Daniel learns something new about their resident Tok'ra, and Sam puts two and two together a split-second too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Sorry for the delay. My thesis is literally due in three weeks and I'm freaking. Out. Big time. So the delays between chapters may bit a bit longer than normal due to me doubling down on my real life commitments. But I'm not giving up. Just temporarily out of order. ehe...

So this was the offending device responsible for this whole mess. It was smaller than Seto imagined it to be. It was slightly taller than he was but it was only wide enough for one person to stand directly in front of it. Maybe it was the fact he was more familiar with the big and grand that the relatively nondescript mirror almost seemed like a letdown. The frame was made of rough-hewn naquadah which he could feel now that he was close to it. But he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what material the reflective surface was made of. 

Standing in front of it was Dr. Jackson, Col. O’Neill, and-

He flinched and glared at the other person. He was male, about Dr. Jackson’s height, brown hair cut in a style similar to Col. O’Neill’s, and held himself at rest. Unlike the female disturbance Dr. Carter, this man was clearly military.

The reflection in the ‘mirror’ flashed and a sound like swords sharpening filled the room and suddenly the image on the reflection _changed!_ Seto stopped abruptly in the hallway before entering the room and stared at the device dumbstruck. The scene reflected in the smooth surface was virtually identical to the corridor he and the two Carters stood in, except the corridor in the image was empty. There was just something innately wrong about looking in a mirror and _not_ seeing yourself.

He shuddered unintentionally, habitually tugging his Shadows closer like a security blanket he would never admit to having.

“Hey! We did it!” Maj. Carter declared, stepping past Seto with a proud smile on her face.

The three men in the room jumped and turned with expressions of pleasant surprise. The male disturbance’s face wasn’t one Seto had seen on the base yet which was odd considering the similarities between Dr. Carter and Maj. Carter. Perhaps his counterpart simply wasn’t here. Or maybe he was dead in this reality.

“What? Already?” Dr. Jackson asked, shifting the small leaf-shaped device in his hands so he could reach up and adjust his glasses.

“That was fast,” the colonel said casually, seeming altogether completely unsurprised.

“Yeah,” the major chirped. “All we have to do now is get it hooked up in your world,” she nodded to her doppelganger, “and dial the Asgard homeworld.”

Seto blinked and stared at the major. The Asgard _homeworld?!_ That was _possible?_ Their homeworld was in another galaxy. Since when could the Chappa’ai reach another _galaxy?_ Even Ra hadn’t been able to pull that off 5,000 years ago. He’d had to actually fly there the old-fashioned way. If Ra _had_ been able to dial the Asgard’s home galaxy...

Seto tried not to gulp at the terrible thought.

“It works?” the male disturbance said, eyebrows raised in interest.

Dr. Carter beamed and reached in front of Seto to flip a switch on the device. A stripe of green light the same shade as the glowing liquid naqadah turned on and the device hummed to life. Despite his misgivings, Seto was reluctantly impressed. It may be Asgardian by design but whatever, _who_ ever actually put this thing together initially had to be gifted in electronics and engineering. For just a small hunk of metal and bare wires, it generated an astounding amount of raw power.

“Nice. Who’s this?” the male disturbance said curiously, nodding to Seto.

Seto tilted his head and pointedly ignored him. “Dr. Jackson,” he said, startling the archaeologist. “A word.”

Handing over a small handheld device of non-Human design to the male disturbance with a muttered apology, Daniel hurried over to where Seto stood in the hallway.

“Wha-”

“I’ll be gone before you get back,” Seto said, cutting Daniel off before the archaeologist could speak. “I can’t stay much longer. I have things that need to be done back home.”

For a moment, it looked like Seto had blown the wind out of Dr. Jackson’s sails. “Oh. Um, okay. Why did you pull me aside to tell me that?”

“Several reasons,” Seto said, crossing his arms. “First, I would rather keep my distance from him,” he nodded to the male disturbance currently speaking to the colonel and two Carters in the room. “Second, if you have anything you’d like me to begin translating, you should give it to me now before you leave.”

“Oh!” And the excitement was back. Exactly like the Pharaoh’s puppy. “Right. Um,” Daniel paused to think, “I have a couple pages of notes in my office. I’ll just go-”

Seto extended and arm and caught Dr. Jackson before he could bolt down the hall. “I’m not finished,” he said, forcing Daniel back so they faced each other more.

“Oh-kay,” Daniel said cautiously, dark blue eyes narrowing in confusion. “What else did you need?”

“Come back alive,” Seto said simply.

The archaeologist opened and closed his mouth for a second before sighing and scratching his neck. “That’s kind of the plan,” he said awkwardly.

Seto glared. “Plans go wrong more often than you think,” he said seriously.

“Oh believe me, I know,” Daniel nodded, rolling his eyes in exasperated agreement.

Seto hummed noncommittally. “You’re interesting, Dr. Jackson. If you died, I would be very annoyed.”

Dr. Jackson frowned and lifted his chin, obviously mulling over Seto’s words. “Are you trying to tell me ‘good luck’?” he asked slowly.

Sharp blue eyes flashed. “Don’t read too much into this,” he snapped, turning on his heel and striding away. “I just hate being bored.”

“Thank you!” Daniel called after him.

Damn it.

* * *

“What was that all about?” Sam asked when he walked back into the room.

“Hm? Uh, nothing. He just,” he gestured back the way Set had been, “gave me some advice is all.”

She gave him a look and nodded in that way of hers that said ‘there’s more to it than that and I know it but I’m not going to push you on it’. It was actually pretty impressive how Sam could say so much with one look. If Daniel didn’t know better, he wouldn’t have been too surprised if someone told him Jack and Sam were related. Their ability to give speeches with just their expressions was startling.

“Who was that?” Kawalsky asked, nodding to the now empty hallway. “Friendly guy,” he added sarcastically.

“You have no idea,” Jack drawled with the same amount of sarcasm.

Daniel shrugged. “I guess,” he said, thinking about that seriously. “He’s, ah-” What should he call him? The Goa’uld were an understandably touchy subject for Kawalsky and Dr. Carter. “He’s-”

“Says his name’s Set,” Jack said boldly. “But he answers to Nephthys and apparently calling him ‘Kaiba’ gets him all ruffled so who really knows.”

“He was probably annoyed you called him that because he didn’t say you could,” Daniel interrupted.

“I thought his name _was_ Kaiba,” Dr. Carter said. “That’s what he introduced himself as and what you,” she nodded to Sam, “called him.”

“That seems to be the name he prefers, yes. He’s a Tok’ra,” Sam explained, stepping in before Daniel and Jack could fall back on one of their age-old friendly debates. “He has experience with alien technology so we asked him for help.”

“Negotiated it was more like,” Jack said, “but basically, yeah.”

“A Tok’ra?” Kawalsky repeated with a frown. He glanced between Sam and Daniel, obviously aware of the fact they were keeping information from him. “What’s a Tok’ra?”

Daniel blinked and even Sam looked surprised. “You- You don’t know what the Tok’ra are?” Daniel asked.

“No,” Dr. Carter said, shaking her head and frowning. “What’s a Tok’ra? It sounds almost Goa’uld.”

“So does Set and Nephthys, come to think of it,” Kawalsky said, his mood noticeably plunging.

“That’s because they are,” Sam said quickly, her mind racing a mile a minute behind her bright blue eyes.

“Tok’ra is a Goa’uld term, yes,” Daniel said. “Set and Nephthys are technically Egyptian. Actually, ‘Nephthys’ is the Greek pronunciation of Ne-”

“They're both Goa’uld,” Jack said, cutting Daniel off with a dry smile. “One literally, the other figuratively.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t think about it earlier,” Sam muttered, her forehead creased in consternation. She looked at Jack and pointed at Dr. Carter. “She doesn’t have naquadah in her blood. I didn’t even…” She turned back to Dr. Carter and said, “You haven’t met Jolinar.”

Oh! Oh, this was going to be so awkward.

“Jolinar?” Dr. Carter asked, interest piqued. “Who’s Jolinar?”

“Jolinar was a Tok’ra,” Sam explained. “Long story short, the Tok’ra are a rebel faction of Goa’uld. They’re our allies against the System Lords.”

“The Goa’uld?” Kawalsky growled, his temper flaring. “You’re allied with the _Goa’uld?”_

“Not the Goa’uld,” Daniel said firmly, hoping to cut off Kawalsky’s anger before it got out of hand. “The _Tok’ra._ Tok’, ‘against.’ Ra,” he waved, “as in Ra the System Lord. Against Ra. Although it’s really come to mean ‘against the System Lords as a whole’ now.”

“So, they’re Goa’uld who are,” Dr. Carter hesitated uncertainly, “against _other_ Goa’uld.”

“Exactly,” Sam exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically. “I know it sounds strange-”

“You think?” Kawalsky snapped, crossing his arms and glaring out the door where Kaiba had been.

Suddenly Daniel was very glad Kaiba stayed away. Sam ignored the other man and kept talking.

“-but they really are fighting against the Goa’uld,” she said. “Look, I’ll ask the general if we can give you the coordinates for the planet we met the Tok’ra on. With any luck they may still be there in your reality.”

“Why would we want to free ourselves from the Goa’uld only to turn around and _ally_ with _other_ Goa’uld?” Kawalsky snapped.

“Good question,” Jack said. He glanced back at Sam and Daniel’s disappointed expressions and eased up a little. “They did help us a few times.”

“Sir, a Tok’ra freed you from the Goa’uld Hathor tried to implant in you,” Sam said sternly. “I’d say that’s worth a thank you, if nothing else is.”

Properly chastened, Jack winced and nodded at the memory. “I guess they do help every now and then.”

“Wait,” Dr. Carter said, frowning in confusion. “Why would a Goa’uld free you from another Goa’uld?”

“Because they’re _not_ Goa’uld,” Daniel said. “Well, I mean they are technically. But they aren’t politically and...” he waved as he struggled to find the right words.

“You’ll understand when you meet them,” Sam said. “Tell them you met someone who knew Jolinar of Malkshor and they’ll listen to you. Tell them the truth of how you met us. If you mention the Asgard are your allies too-”

“Then they’ll _definitely_ want to talk to you,” Jack finished.

Dr. Carter studied Sam closely for a couple seconds before pressing her lips together in a thin line. “Was it Jolinar who…” She nodded subtly as if hesitant to say something out loud.

With a grimace, Daniel watched the glow of excitement fade from Sam’s face as she nodded. Oh boy.

“Yeah. She died saving my life,” Sam said quietly.

“I cannot believe this,” Kawalsky muttered grimly.

Daniel could tell nothing they said would convince Kawalsky to see things the way they did. Well, the way Daniel and Sam did. Daniel was pretty sure Jack would never be fully convinced of the Tok’ra good intentions. Which, Daniel considered, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was good to be wary of things, just not _too_ wary.

“Any idea how he knew I was going to…” Dr. Carter trailed off, clearing her throat nervously.

Um? Daniel glanced at Sam and, surprisingly, Jack who both seemed to understand the half-spoken question. Wow. So many things just happened right there. He was almost afraid to ask.

“Going to what?” Kawalsky asked, sharing Daniel’s confusion and apparently unafraid of asking.

“Sa- Dr. Carter suffered another cascade tremor while we were working on the generator,” Sam said.

Dr. Carter swallowed thickly and grimaced. “Kaiba, uh, knew I was going to have another cascade tremor before it happened.”

“Wait,” Daniel said, holding up a hand. “He what?”

Sam nodded to Dr. Carter in acknowledgement. “He knew she was going to suffer another tremor before it actually happened. He just,” she shook her head in muddle awe, “bolted from the work table and pressed himself against the wall and stared at her like he was _terrified_ of her.”

What? _What?_

“How is that even possible?” Kawalsky asked, again repeating Daniel’s own jumbled thoughts.

“I wouldn’t have believed it either,” Jack said reluctantly, “if I hadn’t seen it myself.” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “He knew it was going to happen and he wanted _out_ of there. The general said it wasn’t the first time he’s done that. Apparently he reacted the same way the first time you had a tremor.”

“But _how?”_ Dr. Carter demanded. “That shouldn’t be possible. How did he know it was going to happen _right then?”_

Jack looked to Sam who, strangely enough, looked at Daniel which ended up pulling everyone else’s gazes to him too. Geez, no pressure.

“I have a couple theories as to why,” Daniel admitted, “but I don’t actually _know_ how.”

“We’re all ears,” Kawalsky said.

Right. “Nephthys was said to have a power the Goa’uld could never replicate, right?” Daniel began, looking at Sam. “What if this was part of it?”

Sam frowned. “What? Like ESP?” she said doubtfully.

“Don’t be so quick to shoot that down,” Daniel said hurriedly. “Think about what we’ve seen since the Stargate was first opened. Telekinesis? Telepathy? Not that far of a jump.”

“Well, yeah, but the ability to see the future?” Sam said doubtfully. Then her frown eased and she actually looked thoughtful. “Or, not the future so much as the present that we can’t see.”

How did Daniel kind of sort of actually understand that?

“Excuse me?” Jack asked.

“When you first met him, he said ‘they hate you,’” Sam said, meeting her counterpart’s eyes. “They. Plural. What if…” She shook her head. “Sorry. I thought I had something there.”

“Think about it some more,” Jack said patting her on the shoulder. “You’ll come up with something.”

 “Yes sir. In the meantime, I’ll go ask the general for a list of coordinates where our friends can find some allies,” Sam said, handing the generator over to Dr. Carter, “and let him know we fixed the generator.”

“Fine. The rest of you,” he turned and pointed at all of them, “gear up. Let’s get this show on the road.”

* * *

When Sam returned, the reflection in the Quantum Mirror showed a familiar corridor. Or it would be familiar if it didn’t look like a small bomb had gone off there.

“Is that it?” she asked, a part of her hoping it wasn’t.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Kawalsky said, nodding grimly. “The damage is from when I threw a grenade to cover our escape.”

A grenade. Wow. The Jaffa must’ve been close to catching up then. She wished she could go with her team. After this, she would be the only one on SG-1 to have never traveled to another reality and she would deny she was jealous. But after watching Dr. Carter suffer through several bouts of entropic cascade failure, Sam was satisfied knowing she would remain here in _one piece._

“Yep, that looks like him,” she heard a voice identical to hers say dryly.

Curious, Sam turned to see Teal’c enter the room in his full First Prime armor followed by General Hammond and Kaiba? Why was Kaiba still here?

“I am not fond of wearing this uniform again,” Teal’c said and Sam winced sympathetically. She could only imagine how hard this must be for her friend.

“Yeah, well I’m not fond of seeing you wear it,” she heard Kawalsky mutter just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Sam rolled her eyes. Men. Always trying to one-up each other. Sheesh.

“Sam.”

Turning, Sam offered a smile to her counterpart. “Sam,” she said, earning her a soft chuckle.

“We made a good team, Major,” Dr. Carter said.

“Yeah we did, Doctor,” Sam replied.

Dr. Carter’s smiled faded somewhat as she glanced over to where Kaiba was standing close to General Hammond’s side. The Tok’ra was observing the Quantum Mirror with an expression that appeared to be a cross between fascination and disgust.

“Any more ideas for how he knew about the tremor before it happened?” Dr. Carter asked, the same interest Sam felt reflected in her counterpart’s voice.

Sam shook her head. “Still working on it,” she said. “We did get permission to program in a list of coordinates for planets where we met some allies into your computers though. Obviously, we prioritized the Asgard homeworld. We won’t input the other coordinates until after the Goa’uld are defeated.”

Dr. Carter nodded. “That’s something at least.” Then she smiled. “Your hair’s growing on me. Pardon the pun.”

She and Sam chuckled. Then Sam’s smile faded. “You’d better go,” she said gently.

Dr. Carter nodded slowly and moved to join Kawalsky and the rest of SG-1 by the Quantum Mirror. Sam used that moment to regain control of her emotions. She had to be strong right now.

“Sam?”

“Sir,” she said, turning to Col. O’Neill. “I’ll be here in case you need anything from this side.”

“Thank you.” The colonel nodded and turned to the general. “General?” he said.

Hammond nodded. “You have a go, colonel,” he said simply.

Kaiba remained silent by the general’s side, but Sam knew he was paying attention to everything that was said and done. If the plan worked out the way they intended it to, Sam and she supposed Kaiba too would remain here in case SG-1 needed any further support. Or Kaiba was just here to watch. She had to admit, she was curious to see how the Mirror worked in person too.

“Okay folks,” she heard Jack say loudly enough for everyone to hear. “On three.”

She almost turned to watch her team gather close to the Mirror when she noticed something flicker across Kaiba’s expression. Fear, revulsion, and horrified realization.

“One.”

Sharp blue eyes widened and Kaiba’s entire form stiffened, reacting to something only he could see or feel. Exactly the way he had before Dr. Carter experienced her last cascade tremor.

“Two.”

Except this time, instead of backing away as fast as he could, Kaiba bolted _forward._ His eyes were wide as he reached out to Dr. Carter’s back as if to push her through the Mirror. If Dr. Carter made it through before she had another tremor-

“Three.”


	20. Unexpected Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dr. Samantha Carter is grateful to be alive, Seto is surprised, thrilled, and gets to have some twisted fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Sorry for the delay. The next update will be a while coming too due to my thesis. Once this whole mess is over, I'll go back to quick updates. But real life takes priority. That said, I'm exhausted so shower and bed for now. I'll edit tomorrow.
> 
> That said, here's a funny story at my expense. Yesterday I woke up at 7am for an 8am doctor's appointment. It was cold so I decided to turn on my heater for the first time this season. A couple seconds after I did that, I smelled something burning and the smoke detector went off. It scared me so bad I dropped the ceramic teapot I'd been holding causing it to shatter. I quickly turned the heater off and calmed down the smoke detector. All that happened five minutes after I woke up. 
> 
> Then the doctor proceeded to ignore my reasons for coming and diagnose me with something I know for sure I don't have because experts (as in the Mayo Clinic) have told me so. But what do I know? I'm only the patient who's lived with this for 20 years. Naturally the doc would know best. ...-_-
> 
> That was my day yesterday. Hope y'all's went better. Today was better for me, so there's that.

Oh no.

That was the last coherent thought she had before she shattered. That was the only word she could come up with to describe the sudden, intense pain that gripped her and _ripped_ her apart. It felt like millions of tiny strings secured to her body suddenly tightened and pulled her apart piece by piece. Her vision blurred and her mind fumbled in its attempt to comprehend what was happening. She almost heard voices screaming, whispering, talking, crying, laughing, all muffled together in a single noise that began to fade away into the darkness that would consume her.

Then something shocked her and she was yanked back together with such force her body convulsed and she collapsed to her knees, hugging herself and gasping. Cascade tremor. She swallowed over her dry cotton mouth as her chest heaved, dragging air into her lungs. Not enough. It wasn’t enough. She was panicking.

She was going to die. She should be dead. That was the worst cascade tremor she’d had since they began. She had actually felt her _self_ splinter into innumerable pieces about to be flung across the universe. Why hadn’t it? _Not that she was complaining!_ But what had stopped it?

She should be dead.

Slowly, her mind began to grasp reality and latch onto the voices around her. Kawalsky was the first voice she recognized. Then Jack’s, the familiarity of the man who wasn’t her husband bringing with it the heart-stabbing pain she would learn to live with one day. Then Dr. Jackson’s concerned voice filtered in sounding like it was trying to calm Kawalsky and Jack down.

But weaving intermittently through those voices was a deeper voice she had to think about before finally recognizing it. Kaiba. Why was he talking? She wasn’t sure yet, her mind was still anchoring itself back to the here and now, but it almost sounded like Kaiba was talking to _her_.

“Breathe. Again. Again. Breathe.”

She found herself obeying the low commands even as the muscles in her body spasmed violently sending shudders up and down her spine. She coughed then took a deep, unsteady breath.

Finally she slumped, leaning back into the warm hands gripping her shoulders and holding her steady. She was back. She was going to be okay. She didn’t know _how_ since she really should be dead. But she knew she would be okay now.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

The hands slipped from her shoulders a second before a shadow fell over her and Kawalsky’s face filled her gaze. His larger hands cupped her face and took a good look at her.

“Hey Sam,” he said gently. “You okay?”

Hesitantly, she nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Yeah, I’m okay,” she said again after swallowing, her voice stronger.

The man grimaced and pulled her into a brief, tight hug before standing and helping her get to her feet. She wobbled but caught herself.

“What did you do?” Kawalsky demanded.

“Kept her alive.”

Kaiba?

“Or would you prefer I let her die before she made it here?”

Definitely “Kaiba?” she gasped, turning to the Tok’ra in surprise.

Kawalsky bared his teeth and made as if to lunge. Kaiba didn’t even flinch, he just met Kawalsky’s glare with a passive, bored stare.

“What are you doing here?” Samantha asked. “Thank you! But how do you… You were just-”

She turned to point to a spot behind her when she finally got a good look at the room she was in. The room was empty except for her, Jack, Kawalsky, Dr. Jackson, and Teal’c. The lone door to the room was open wide, hanging limply on its hinges, and the hallway beyond was dark and filled with twisted metal and debris from grenade damage.

She was back home. But that meant-

She whirled around with wide eyes and stared at the Quantum Mirror where Maj. Carter, General Hammond, and the people from the _other_ Earth were. They appeared just as stunned by the turn of events as Samantha was.

“You should move slowly.”

She jerked her attention back to Kaiba. His blue eyes regarded her sternly, the disgust somewhat faded from his gaze.

“Your mind may be whole,” he said, “but your body will need time to adjust.”

She nodded. She could feel the uneasiness in her stomach and the borderline nausea working its way up her throat. Going through the Gate was not going to be pleasant.

“O’Neill!” Teal’c called, his voice low and tightly controlled. “Jaffa approach.”

Jack- Col. O’Neill muttered a curse as the distinct sound of metal booted feet stomped down the dilapidated corridor. “Take cover kids!” he commanded in the same low tone.

He grabbed Dr. Jackson and pushed him behind one of the crates, silently commanding Kawalsky and Samantha to do the same. Kaiba turned to press his hand against the Mirror when the colonel snagged the collar of his coat and yanked him down behind a crate too. Samantha saw the moment Kaiba realized what was happening a split second before he tumbled to the ground out of sight.

“Daniel!” O’Neill called in a harsh whisper.

She felt Daniel crouch close to her side, clutching the remote to the Quantum Mirror tightly. He looked up at the colonel who pointed at the Mirror then jerked his hand across his throat.

Daniel’s eyes grew wide and he started to shake his head, mouthing the word ‘no.’ The colonel’s expression hardened and he repeated the silent command. After a second, just as the booted feet approached the door, Daniel’s shoulders drooped and he shut off the Mirror. From across the room, she thought she heard a muffled gasp before two shadows appeared in the doorway.

Silence filled the room. Samantha held her breath as the Jaffa scanned the room. Seconds passed painfully slowly as Samantha watched the elongated shadows of the Jaffa stand in the doorway and did what she rarely ever did. She prayed. She didn’t really believe in a higher power other than what could be explained by science, but sometimes she wanted to believe there was something or someone out there who cared about what happened in her little corner of the universe. Now she prayed to whatever power might be listening.

Go away. Make them go away. Please.

She swallowed thickly, her eyes instinctively seeking out the familiar yet so painfully foreign gaze of the man who she once called her husband. Instead, she caught a pair of sharp blue eyes belonging to the Tok’ra who saved her life. He didn’t look away from her, just held her fearful gaze calmly. His hand moved by his side and metal clinked as the two Jaffa turned and moved away from the room, stalking down the dark hallway on patrol.

The silence and stillness hung over their little group for another handful of seconds before Col. O’Neill got to his feet and began giving swift, silent instructions to Kawalsky. Her friend nodded and stayed close to her side while O’Neill moved to the door and made a cautiously visual sweep of the hallway.

“They’re gone,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Teal’c, Kawalsky, Dr. Carter, you’re with me. Daniel,” he shot an annoyed glance at the Tok’ra Kaiba, “send this guy back and keep the connection open.”

Daniel grimaced but activated the Mirror, which reflected a world that wasn’t the world they’d left behind.

“What’s that?” O’Neill asked in confusion.

“It’s what I was afraid of,” Daniel muttered. Louder, he said, “When I cut the connection, the Mirror lost its place, I guess. I have to find our world all over again.”

Samantha knew _her_ Jack well enough to recognize the tense annoyance in the colonel’s expression. “How long do you think it’ll take?” he asked as Daniel began flipping through the realities.

“I…” The archaeologist shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Reluctantly, the colonel huffed. “Alright. Keep at it,” he said, patting Daniel on the shoulder. “You,” he pointed to Kaiba, “stay here. If _anything_ happens to him,” he threatened, pointing a finger directly at Kaiba’s face, “I’m holding you responsible.”

The Tok’ra sneered but said nothing.

“The rest of you,” O’Neill said, “let’s go get Dr. Carter through the Gate.”

Samantha picked up the generator and moved to follow Kawalsky, O’Neill, and Teal’c, but she paused before stepping out into the hall. She bit her lip and hurried back into the room, hesitantly reaching out to touch Kaiba’s arm. The Tok’ra tensed and stared at her hand as if it had personally offended him but she didn’t remove it.

She waited until he looked at her before speaking. “Thank you for saving my life back there,” she said.

His eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise. She smiled and hurried away without waiting for his reply. They had one shot of doing this and didn’t have much time to work.

* * *

He wasn’t used to being thanked. At all. For anything. Only Mokuba ever thanked him for things. Well, Yugi thanked him for things now too. But hardly anyone else did. He’d been alone too long if something as basic as someone saying ‘thank you’ threw him off.

Consciously shaking himself, he sighed and turned to Dr. Jackson who was staring at the Mirror with a focused expression, his forehead creased in concentration. Seto hadn’t meant to go _through_ the Quantum Mirror. He’d only meant to push Dr. Carter through before the Shadows of his universe tore her asunder.

He’d felt it right before it happened. If he’d been any slower, the woman would have died. The Shadows that began to roil around her had finally built up enough power to succeed in destroying her. The last thing she would have felt was agony and terror before she simply ceased to exist.

She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d just been fleeing the System Lords. But she was smart and had been able to figure out how to fix the Asgardian designed generator with him. That hadn’t been easy. He reluctantly respected her mind.

Then she’d thanked him. He’d acted with honor and the very selfish desire to not witness her demise. Those were the only reasons. Yet, she had still thanked him.

“This is going to take a while,” he heard Dr. Jackson mutter under his breath.

Turning to the archaeologist, Seto sighed and crossed his arms. “Just do it right,” he said. “I’ll watch the hall.”

Startled out of his concentration, Dr. Jackson blinked and looked at him. Then he slumped in reluctant acceptance and returned his attention back to the Mirror.

“You saved her life, you know.”

Oh. Great. The man was a talker.

“I’ve only seen one of those tremors,” Daniel continued, clicking through realities slowly but surely. “That one was much worse than the other one.” He cast a fleeting glance at Seto. “That one would’ve killed her, if you hadn’t acted.”

“Is there a point to this?” Seto demanded, keeping his voice low and controlled.

“I’m just trying to say…” The sword-slashing sound accompanied another change in realities. “You didn’t have to do that. Thanks.”

Three times in one day. Seto had to fight the urge to surreptitiously look around for the lapdog’s presence because his luck was _never_ this good. There was a reason he only relied on luck when he had no other options. His luck was awful. And yet…

Minutes passed in companionable silence while Dr. Jackson worked and Seto kept watch. Seto could feel the Chappa’ai nearby and sent up a prayer to Obelisk to guard and protect SG-1. However much Seto disliked the Asgard, he wanted this mission to succeed.

He stroked the Millennium Rod subconsciously, feeling the Shadows in his immediate vicinity while listening for booted feet and waiting for the tell-tale pull of naquadah. Those two Jaffa wouldn’t be alone. There would be other patrols passing by soon.

He stiffened when he noticed the few lights in the hallway brighten momentarily before dimming back to their usual dim glow. The generator must have just been hooked up. It was only a matter of time now. The sound of realities flipping through the Mirror continued in a steady, unbroken pattern. Dr. Jackson must not have noticed the change.

“Sam.”

Dr. Jackson’s voice was jarring after so long with no sound. Startled, Seto turned to the archaeologist who was staring at the Mirror with wide eyes and a relieved smile. He must have found the right reality. Good. Seto knew what would happen to him if he stayed here too long. He doubted the Shadows would be merciful to him just because he wielded their Rod. The Shadows were always fair.

Following Dr. Jackson’s gaze, Seto studied the reality reflected in the Mirror and frowned. There was a temporary barrier made of sandbags about three feet tall built several feet in front of the door to the room on the other side of the Mirror. Seto didn’t remember that being there but they had been gone for a while. It would make sense for the military to take defensive action just in case SG-1 returned under enemy fire.

More importantly, Maj. Sam Carter was standing in front of the Mirror with a surprised smile on her face. She was speaking but sound wasn’t carried through the Mirror. Curious, Seto stepped closer to Dr. Jackson’s side to study the rest of the room. Minus the few differences, it looked the same as the one they’d left.

Except that the Sam in that reality was now staring right at Seto without recognizing him. Actually, she was frowning in growing suspicion, her gaze flickering between Seto and Dr. Jackson as she tried to figure out what she was seeing.

“You’re a captain,” Dr. Jackson muttered.

What? Seto glanced at the archaeologist then at the name patch on the other Sam’s uniform and nodded subtly. It read Capt. Samantha Carter. The Sam he and Dr. Jackson knew was a major. Dr. Jackson smiled faintly and gave an awkward wave before moving to turn the dial on the Mirror’s remote again.

But not before Seto smirked and flashed his eyes gold. He took perverse pleasure in the way the other Sam visibly gasped and raised her gun an instant before her reality disconnected and a new one flickered in its place.

Dr. Jackson frowned and glanced at him. “Did you do something?” he asked suspiciously.

Seto just hummed in amusement.

Then the Shadows twitched just as something tugged on his blood and something thudded in the hall, alerting them both to unwanted guests.

_“Kuso!”_

Seto moved to the far wall, pressing himself against it and leaning out just enough to catch a glimpse of the hall. The Jaffa weren’t in sight yet but they would be any second.

“Hide behind the Mirror,” Seto commanded, drawing the Millennium Rod out of his belt loop with practiced ease. “I’ll take care of this.”

He waited to be sure Dr. Jackson obeyed before slipping out into the hallway and crouching behind a twisted metal beam that had fallen from the ceiling. There were dark scorch marks and soot on the dull metal which would help mottle his dark figure. Just in case, he drew the Shadows close and waited.

Thank Ra he’d thought to retrieve his kara kesh and put it on before this whole fiasco began. He flexed his left hand, feeling the cool metal of the red jewel press against his palm. He hefted the Millennium Rod in his right hand and listened.

Adrenaline flowed through his veins filling him with energy and excitement. It had been a while since he’d gotten the chance to really let loose. Pegasus’ ridiculous Duelist Kingdom castle hardly counted. He’d been fresh from a Penalty Game with just enough Shadows to be sensitive and no idea who he could trust.

Saruwatari Kemo’s betrayal had hit Seto harder than he thought it would. He took betrayal personally. Saruwatari had been the one to kidnap his little brother when the former bodyguard defected to Pegasus’ side while Seto had been in a coma. Waking up to find his brother gone, his company in the middle of a hostile takeover, his bodyguard gone, and goons with guns trying to kill him had not been the most pleasant thing to wake up to.

This was different. This was battle on a field he was familiar with. This was what he was good at. Sneak attacks behind the enemy’s lines, sowing chaos within the Jaffa ranks, and picking them off one by one. This was thrilling. This was _fun._

He grinned in anticipation. The patrol was just two Jaffa. Neither wore their helmets but the symbol branded on their foreheads declared their System Lord loud and clear. Apophis. Oh, Seto was going to enjoy this. He removed the protective cover from the handle of the Rod revealing a wickedly sharp blade. Tucking the cover in his coat pocket, he waited.

Reaching down to brush his silver-encased fingers against his holstered deck, he felt for the Trap he wanted. It responded to his summons almost instantly and he breathed the words to spring it. The Jaffa in the lead stepped over a fallen rock, then vanished when the ground opened up into a dark abyss. The stark fear in the Jaffa’s wide eyes and his terrified scream as he fell into the chasm filled Seto with satisfaction.

The Jaffa’s partner froze where he stood staring at the floor in shock, jumping back in horror when the concrete and stone slammed shut as abruptly as it had opened up. Leaping up from his hiding spot, Seto planted a foot on the twisted metal beam and propelled himself forward, slamming the Rod’s long, slender blade into the Jaffa’s vulnerable throat before he ever had a chance to raise and activate his staff weapon.

The body sank to the ground and Seto stepped back to avoid the spray of blood from the severed artery. There would be more shortly. He wanted to hunt, but he couldn’t leave Dr. Jackson unprotected. The excitement lit his eyes brilliant gold as he twirled the Rod and turned on his heel to return to the Mirror.

“Dr. Jackson,” he called, stopping in the doorway.

The archaeologist peeked out from behind the Mirror, sighing in relief when he recognized Seto. Reaching down to his deck, Seto popped open the cover and drew the card he wanted without having to look. Bringing to his lips, he whispered the Trap’s name in Japanese.

_“Cloning.”_

The Trap materialized as a writhing shadow that shimmered a faint gold before settling into a near-perfect copy of his own form down to the fake Millennium Rod in its hands. The only difference Seto immediately noticed between himself and Cloning was the lack of the Eye of Ra on the Rod. It was a minor detail but would be a dead giveaway for anyone who knew what to look for. The fools here didn’t.

“What the hell is that?” Dr. Jackson cried, shocked by the Trap’s sudden appearance.

Both Seto and Cloning looked at the archaeologist at the same time with identical expressions of mild interest before meeting eyes once more.

 _“Stay here,”_  Seto ordered it in Japanese. _“Nothing gets past you. Protect Dr. Jackson and the Mirror.”_

Cloning’s eyes flashed gold and it tilted its head down in silent acknowledgement of the command.

“Kaiba?” Dr. Jackson said, pointing at Cloning. “What is that?” He paused, glancing between the two of them. “You _are_ Kaiba… right?”

“This is Cloning,” Seto said, nodding to the Trap that wore his form. “He’s identical to me in almost every way. He’ll stand guard in my place. If anything gets past him, I’ll know.”

The archaeologist blinked slowly and shook his head, accepting what was probably yet another strange thing on Dr. Jackson’s no-doubt long list. “Okay,” Dr. Jackson said. “And where will you be?”

Seto grinned, his eyes glowing brilliant gold. “Hunting,” he purred.

The disturbed expression on Dr. Jackson’s face as he swept out into the darkness of the hallway was worth it. Now, where to start. Straight or left? If the layout of this place was even remotely similar to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex of his reality, then the Chappa’ai would be straight. He could feel its naquadah from that direction. Straight it was then. Time to cull some Jaffa.

Just like old times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Quick thing for anyone who's curious. This isn't important to the story, but just a little tidbit. The character _Saruwatari Kemo_ is the canon YGO bodyguard who betrayed Seto Kaiba in the Duelist Kingdom arc and captured Mokuba. He's the big dude in the black suit, sunglasses, and bad hair slicked to a point over his forehead who held Seto at gunpoint in the forest on Duelist Kingdom Island. Those of you who only watched the dub didn't get to see that scene because it was edited out, I believe. But the dude was in there. His name is _Kemo_ in the English dub and _Saruwatari_ in the Japanese dub. So I just combined the two names to give him a full name.


	21. Flash-Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daniel is curious, Cloning is not okay with this, and Seto finally gets to burn off some excess stress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** So sorry for the delay. But my thesis is now defended, revised, completed, submitted, and accepted. I am now a Master of Science. I graduate in two weeks. Whoo! Stressful-then/funny-now story about that though. I can laugh about it now because it's been resolved, but suffice it to say: university system bureaucracy is hellishly inefficient this long-overdue update. I plan on updating Foxfire and Druid in Blue sometime this week too if I can. enjoy this long-overdue update. I plan on updating _Foxfire_ and _Druid in Blue_ sometime this week too if I can.
> 
>  **Goa'uld Language Translations:**  
>  *Kree \- Military order. Loosely translated as attention, listen up, concentrate. Also appears to mean attack, retreat, move out, fall back, fire, cease fire, attention, stand down, etc.  
> *Kek mattet \- A challenge (as in challenging to a duel)  
> *Hashak \- No direct translation; an insult, likely meaning "fool"
> 
> In case anyone's curious, all Goa'uld translations come from the StargateWiki: http://www.stargate-sg1-solutions.com/wiki/Goa%27uld_Language

Daniel wasn’t sure what to do about the thing that looked like Kaiba currently standing guard by the door. It hadn’t said a word since it appeared. It? He? Kaiba had called it Cloning. Was that its name? Was it a shapeshifting creature? If so, what species was it and where the _hell_ did it come from?

Blue eyes glanced curiously at him and Daniel blinked. Cloning’s eyes weren’t quite the same as Kaiba’s. The color was right but they weren’t… They just didn’t seem… right. Wow, that was not a great description but it was the best Daniel could come up with. It wasn’t a visible difference so much as a… _feel_ difference. Kaiba’s gaze was always wary but curious. This blue gaze was more curious and lacked the hard edges of Kaiba’s glacial ice.

“Um, hi,” Daniel said, raising a hesitant hand in a half-hearted wave. “I’m Daniel.”

Cloning tilted its head in acknowledgement but said nothing.

Okay. Maybe it couldn’t speak.

…and this was getting awkward. Guess it was time to go back to the Mirror.

Adjusting his grip on the remote control, Daniel grimaced and sighed. A twitch of the dial and the reality reflected on the Mirror’s surface changed yet again. It was familiar but no one stood on the other side and the lights in the room were out. Keep searching.

Change. Nope. Change. Closer but still nope. Change. _Change!_ Wow. Daniel had not been ready to see that. He did not want to think about Jack in a clown suit. Why had that even _happened?!_ What could have possibly convinced Jack to do that? What… You know what? Nevermind. Don’t question it.

He would have nightmares about that though. He shivered and adjusted his glasses.

Next world. Boring. Next. Not right. Next. Closer. Next. Woah! The Mirror was outside? And moving? Oh, it was being loaded on a plane. Not right. Next.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed but the distinctive sound of Jaffa boots marching towards him would knock him out of any funk. Startled, he whirled around to see Cloning crouched by the doorway, the golden bladed rod gripped tightly in his right hand. Daniel hesitated. Should he keep looking through the worlds? Each change made noise. What if he was caught? The Goa’uld could _not_ be allowed to get control of the Quantum Mirror. He could only imagine the havoc they would cause by traveling between realities.

“Jaffa! Kree!”

Damn! He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know he’d been found out. At least he hadn't been shot yet. The sound of metal striking metal sent jolts of adrenaline racing through his system. Cloning must be keeping the Jaffa at bay. But how long would that last?

Thud.

Huh?

Ka-thud-clang.

This time, Daniel couldn’t resist. He turned and saw the bodies of two, fully armed Jaffa splayed out on the floor. One’s throat had been cut and the other twitched pitifully around a bleeding, gaping hole it his abdomen. Their staff weapons were discarded on the ground. Was that one _cracked?!_ How did that-

A flash of gold drew Daniel’s attention to the bloody golden rod in Cloning’s hand. No way. But gold was a soft metal. It wasn’t exactly preferable for weapons or armor. It was decorative and useful, but not for warfare. How could a solid gold rod, even with those identical blades on either side of the rod’s spherical top, possibly _break_ a staff weapon? Unless it wasn’t solid gold but gold plated perhaps?

But there were no dents in it. Actually, there wasn’t much blood on it either. How did… It was drenched two seconds ago. Where did all the blood go?

As Daniel watched, the blood still splattered on the golden rod’s surface began to fade like fog on a window in a cool morning. It was the strangest thing. The rod looked, well, shinier than before. Why was that?

Cloning stiffened, flipped the rod so he held the handle like a knife, and darted out into the hallway. The sound of a blade sinking viciously into flesh met Daniel’s ears and he gulped. Metal clanged and more booted feet rushed down the hallway towards the room. Daniel had no doubt Cloning could handle himself, but anyone could get overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

Daniel could fight if push came to shove, but he would much rather talk. Talking he could do, fighting he could… passably do. Besides, if he kept working with the Quantum Mirror, he ran the risk of accidentally revealing to the Jaffa and, by extension, the Goa’uld how to use the technology. And if he found the right reality, then what? Leave it open until the gang returned? Escape through the Mirror alone without Jack and Teal’c and Kaiba? No, the latter was not even remotely an option.

“Jack’s going to kill me,” he muttered under his breath.

With a huff of frustration, Daniel switched off the Mirror and quickly scanned the room. There wasn’t any good place to hide the remote where it wouldn’t immediately be found except for the crates. So he pried the top of one of the wooden crates open and tossed the remote inside before dropping the lid shut.

Then he drew his gun and stepped warily towards the doorway. Pressing his back against the wall, he leaned around and peered out into the hall. Cloning was handling the situation, but even Daniel could tell he wouldn’t last much longer with martial arts and his rod alone. Odd. If Cloning was identical to Kaiba, then why wasn’t Cloning using a kara kesh? Daniel knew Kaiba had one.

Unless Cloning only mimicked Kaiba appearance and physical ability at the time of replication. That was more up Sam’s alley than Daniel’s but if it was true, then this was probably the right decision. Daniel lifted his gun and stared because _holy shit!_  

Cloning had literally just _tossed_ a Jaffa back down the hall hard enough to slam him against the wall _without_ a kara kesh. That was impressive.

Still. He missed one.

Daniel raised his gun and fired at the Jaffa stalking Cloning from behind. It wasn’t a headshot. Actually, it wasn’t a good shot at all, but it was definitely a lucky shot. The bullet pinged off the Jaffa’s armor before deflecting into the soft unprotected area underneath the warrior’s raised forearm. The Jaffa grunted, flinching back, and staggering briefly before his head suddenly rolled off of his shoulders.

Oh.

Daniel gulped. He’d seen a lot, especially over the past few years, but a beheading wasn’t… Well, it certainly wasn’t a sight he could remember seeing. Nor was it a sight he ever wanted to see again.

The sound of a staff blast rang down the hallway, an energetic hum compared to the loud pop of gunfire, followed by a hoarse cry of pained surprise. Cloning stumbled back towards Daniel facing where the blast had come from. One hand was pressed against a shoulder which wasn’t bleeding but-

It wasn’t bleeding. Why wasn’t it bleeding? Staff blasts tended to cauterize wounds, true, but they still bled and burned the fabric and skin around the wound leaving scorch marks. None of those tell-tale marks were visible. Daniel blinked and stared at the wound in confusion.

It looked more like a computer error. It fizzled and blurred before resettling in the form of Cloning’s trench coat. That was new.

Cloning’s eyes flashed gold and the Jaffa cursed, preparing to fire once more. Except this blast wasn’t aimed at Cloning. It was aimed at Daniel. Orange gold energy blazed across the expanse towards him. Daniel had just long enough to comprehend the fact that this was going to hurt before he was pushed aside and Cloning was suddenly there and _gone!_

Where Cloning had been was just sparks and shards that shimmered and fizzled like the last embers of a dying firework. Then Daniel was alone and Jaffa rushed into the Quantum Mirror room.

He wasn’t stupid. He surrendered. The Jaffa didn't kill him. Jack, however, _was_ going to kill him.

* * *

 

Seto flinched in annoyance when he felt Cloning’s defeat. He was too far away to make it back in time to save Dr. Jackson. He clicked his tongue in frustration and slammed the bladed top of the Rod into the head of the nearest Jaffa he’d subdued. He had deliberately drawn the Jaffa’s attention, luring them away from Dr. Jackson and the Quantum Mirror and into a deadly game of cat-and-mouse.

Unfortunately, Seto’s luck decided to be exceptionally bad today. Honestly, all he’d wanted to do this morning was destroy a couple interlopers and go home to rest and prepare for his return flight to Japan. Now _he_ was the interloper and not at _all_ pleased with the scenario. Obelisk have mercy on his sanity. He wanted to _burn something._

Why the hell not.

He didn’t have a full circle of Shadowmancers like the Shadow Court in Ancient Egypt to back him up and absorb the magickal backlash so he would need to be careful. But one brief burst shouldn’t be too big of a problem as long as he kept the Rod on his person. The backlash would give him a headache, but if it made him feel better right now and helped him burn off some excess energy and stress, then it would be well worth it. Besides, if Ra saw fit to watch over this little misadventure, then Dr. Carter was already through the Chappa’ai and convincing the Asgard to help.

With Cloning’s defeat, Dr. Jackson was likely captured. Apophis may be an idiot but he wasn’t entirely stupid, however oxymoronic that sounded. Seto recognized the golden glyph on Teal’c's forehead. Not only was Teal'c once one of Apophis’ Jaffa, he had been the System Lord’s First Prime.

Whereas common Jaffa had the glyph of their respective System Lord tattooed on their foreheads, the First Primes had the glyphs cut into their foreheads with molten gold poured into the wounds. It was a permanent mark of possession and slavery, though very few First Primes or Jaffa in general saw it that way. To them, it was a symbol of power, influence, and loyalty, something to achieve and respect. The fact Teal’c was so obviously _against_ the System Lords now even though he had once held the prestigious position of First Prime of Apophis was enough to garner Seto’s grudging respect.

Teal’c was quiet but thoughtful and shrewd. If Teal’c was still Apophis’ First Prime in this world, then the Jaffa under his command would be trained to be just as thoughtful and shrewd. If Apophis' Jaffa knew what they were doing, then they wouldn't kill Dr. Jackson. The man was obviously a scholar and scientists were less likely to be killed outright and more likely to be captured alive and forced into servitude.

Seto liked Dr. Jackson. The thought of the glasses nerd who was passionate about languages and history forced to work under the Goa’uld he despised rubbed Seto the wrong way. He highly doubted Dr. Jackson would survive the experience; either due to suicide or being caught selling vital information to Apophis’ enemies. Seto had no doubt Dr. Jackson was clever enough to figure out a way to pull that off.

However, with Dr. Jackson captured, Apophis would have leverage against Col. O’Neill and the male interloper Kawal-whatever. Seto did _not_ like Kawal-whatever but he was not about to let Dr. Jackson suffer under Apophis’ oh-so-gentle care. Besides, he _hated_ Apophis. The least Seto could do was give the bastard System Lord the scare of his life.

“Jaffa! Kree!” he shouted into the dark hallway. He didn’t have to see the Jaffa to know they were there waiting for him to approach their position. “Throwing your cannon fodder at me will do nothing but add to your pathetically high body count.” He twirled his Millennium Rod loosely in his hand before slipping it into his belt loop. “Kek mattet! The best warrior amongst you against me. No weapons. Just hand-to-hand combat. Defeat me and I will submit to you and your snake of a god Apophis without further resistance. However,” he smirked, flashing his eyes a brilliant gold, “if I win, my challenger’s life is mine to do with as I please.”

The ringing silence that answered his challenge was telling. He snickered. “What’s the matter?” he taunted. “Does Apophis only keep cowards as his advance guard? Show yourself. Unless you wish to surrender before we even begin.”

The angered grumbles of the hidden Jaffa were audible to Seto until, finally, one lone Jaffa stepped out from behind a fallen piece of debris. The Jaffa’s dark eyes gleamed as he deliberately powered down his staff weapon and handed it to another Jaffa.

“I accept your challenge, hashak,” the warrior boldly declared.

Seto hummed in approval, choosing to ignore the insult. Careful to keep his movements in full sight of the Jaffa, he removed his Millennium Rod from his belt loop and removed the kara kesh from his hand. He held them both out to be inspected before setting them down on a crumbled chunk of metal by the hallway wall. Then he removed his trench coat and the protective leather case that held his Deck and lay them by his discarded weapons and waited.

Satisfied, the Jaffa withdrew his holstered zat’nik’katel and boot knife. When he held out his arms as proof he held no more weapons, Seto nodded in approval. Then Seto smirked, hooking a finger at the Jaffa in a taunting command to approach.

Visibly fuming, the Jaffa sneered. “I demand to know the name of the hashak I am to defeat!” he barked.

“Fight me first,” Seto countered arrogantly. "Win or lose, I’ll tell you my name.”

The Jaffa did not visibly approve of that offer. Nevertheless, he approached and settled into a fighting stance. He was well built, muscular, and clearly experienced in hand-to-hand combat. Strength alone would do Seto little good in this duel. Pity. Good thing Seto had spent thousands of years studying various forms of martial arts and building up his endurance. His skill, agility, and speed would be his greatest ally in this fight. The Jaffa’s armor was a double-edged sword. It would make it harder for Seto to land powerful hits but it would also slow the warrior down.

“Begin!” the Jaffa commanded an instant before he swung at Seto’s unprotected face.

The debris scattered across the corridor provided both obstacles to avoid and launch pads from which Seto could brace and pounce. He dodged the Jaffa’s next attack with a swift side step, ducked another wild grab, and swooped underneath the Jaffa’s outstretched arm. Just as he moved past the Jaffa’s unprotected armpit, Seto pressed the fingers and thumb of his left hand together like a white crane’s beak and jabbed the vulnerable spot.

Planting his left foot on the ground, he pivoted so he faced the Jaffa’s back. He fisted his hands with the index knuckle raised just slightly above the others and struck. One jab at the Jaffa’s shoulder joint, one near the Jaffa’s left elbow joint, and a sharp kick at the back of the Jaffa’s right knee cap. The warrior’s metal weave shirt offered some protection from the effects of the jabs but the Jaffa still staggered.

Well, Seto had wondered how the jabs of his favored style of hand-to-hand combat would work against an armored Jaffa. The answer was they were indeed effective, but not as debilitating as Seto would have preferred. The metal weave of the Jaffa warrior's under-armor acted like chain-mail. It offered just enough protection to prevent a fully blocked chi path, but it obviously still hurt. A small smirk worked its way onto his face. Perhaps something with a bit more force was needed after all.

Spreading his feet and bending his knees slightly in a grounded stance, Seto raised both hands, fingers pressed together like a cobra’s head. Over the years, Seto studied numerous forms of martial arts before settling on his personal style: a combination of snake and crane kung fu with a dash of Dim Mak against his more formidable opponents. Those styles focused on speed, agility, balance, and accuracy; all things Seto excelled at.

The Jaffa turned and executed a series of punches and attempted tackles. At first, Seto merely dodged, winding his arms and hands around the Jaffa’s attacking arms like a snake coiling around its prey. Once Seto was certain his opponent was suitably furious, he grinned and began boldly attacking.

Seto blocked a punch with the flat back of his hand, wound his arm around the Jaffa’s, advanced into the Jaffa’s guard, and struck once with a stiff, flat, snake-like hand. Blood rushed from the screaming Jaffa’s gouged eye socket but Seto didn’t pause or gloat. He pressed his advantage. Another strike at the side of the Jaffa’s vulnerable throat, this time with his fingers and thumb pressed into a crane’s beak. Then another strike at a vulnerable joint, then another, then another, then another until he felt the Jaffa’s muscles loosen and given in his hold. Stepping back, he allowed the warrior to slump to the floor in a screaming, bleeding mess.

“You asked me for my name,” Seto said, allowing the distinctive echoing quality indicative of a Goa’uld to return to his voice as he knelt by the defeated Jaffa. “I am Nephthys and Earth is mine by hereditary right. You are _trespassing.”_

Without waiting for a response, Seto formed the crane’s beak with his hand once more and struck the defeated Jaffa in the throat shattering the warrior’s hyoid bone. Leaving the Jaffa to suffocate at his feet, Seto stood and faced the other Jaffa.

“Kree Jaffa! I am the victor,” he declared. “You,” he pointed to the Jaffa still holding the dying warrior’s staff weapon, “return to your snake Apophis and inform him he has trespassed on the territory of Nephthys. This planet is mine by hereditary right as decreed by Ra himself. If Apophis does not leave freely, then I will kill him with my own hands.”

Probably not. The Asgard would no doubt take care of that for him. But it sounded impressive and it felt good to say.

The terrified Jaffa Seto singled out hesitated, obviously torn between obeying Seto’s command to warn Apophis of Seto’s presence and the desire to avenge his fallen comrade. After a moment, the Jaffa spat at Seto’s feet in defiance before turning and racing away to warn his false god. Several other Jaffa turned to follow, only to skid to a stop when a wall of violet-veined darkness blocked their path.

“How many Jaffa does it take to send a message?” Seto wondered aloud, striding over to his discarded kara kesh and Millennium Rod.

One deep breath.

Pull the Shadows to him as both a personal shield and a catalyst. He replaced the kara kesh on his left hand, the silvery metal gleaming eerily in the Shadowy darkness.

Two deep breaths.

Feel the electricity sparking just beneath his skin, _begging_ to be let loose. Standing once more, he lifted the Millennium Rod so the bladed top hovered level with the collar bone.

Three breaths.

Feel the dissonant discord between the positive and negative, the white and the black, the bright and shadow. Keep them separate. Keep them just close enough to be tantalizing but just far enough apart to be uncomfortable.

“One,” Seto said, closing his eyes.

Deep in his mind, a dragon roared at the same time he breathed out a fourth time, whispering two, soft words in Japanese.

_“White Lighting.”_

Incandescent white light blazed through the subterranean fortress in an instant of heat, light, sound, and power. Had Seto’s eyes been open, he would likely have been momentarily blinded and disoriented. As it was, his ears were ringing so loudly everything else was muffled as if it was all filtered through a wall. He wobbled, his internal gyroscope thrown off by the incredibly loud sound and abrupt release of pent-up power.

Instinctively, he opened his eyes to aid in regaining his balance. He blinked and staggered. With nothing to reach out and brace against, he collapsed to one knee breathing hard. His hands reached up to gingerly cover his ringing ears. He would heal the damage in a few hours but _damn it_ it hurt _now_. He couldn’t hear _anything_ over the ringing.

Focus. Breathe, calm down, relax, and use the Shadows. They wanted to be his eyes and ears. They could function as his senses while he recovered. Besides, he could feel the Shadowy wall drop away leaving him in the natural darkness of the subterranean base.

Until a flash of light and the tingle similar to transport Rings sang along his nerves. He had just enough time to gasp in surprise and stagger to his feet in an attempt to dodge befo-


	22. Asgard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Apophis does not believe science, a Jaffa might be harmed in the making of this, and Seto is... not sure about this. Any of this.

“No!”

Daniel barely heard Kawalsky’s cry of dismay over the pain and heartache he felt in his own heart. The General George Hammond lying dead and bleeding on the floor from the second zat blast may not be _his_ General George Hammond, but they had the same face. If the general of this reality was anything like the one Daniel knew and respected, then Daniel could only imagine the pain the man’s death was causing Kawalski.

And over _nothing!_ He’d told the truth! He had told the _truth!_ As best he could. He’d tried to give a bit of background to help the Goa’uld Apophis understand the concept of alternate realities but obviously the damn System Lord wasn’t having it.

“Kawalsky!” Jack shouted in his best colonel voice. Reluctantly, Kawalsky slowed his struggles. After a moment, the Jaffa holding Kawalsky in a headlock loosened the hold to allow the airman to breathe. Daniel felt awful.

“I will ask again,” Apophis commanded, his voice echoing menacingly in sync with his glowing eyes. “How can you raise the dead without a sarcophagus? Where are you from?”

Fuck explanations. Apophis wanted a straight answer? Daniel would give it to him.

“An alternate reality,” the archaeologist snapped. “We’re from an alternate reality.”

“One in which,” Jack added, giving in to his incessant need to taunt any and all Goa’uld, “by the way, you’re _dead.”_

Apophis’ eyes flashed an angry gold and Daniel collapsed to the floor writhing from the stinging blast of a zat.

“Oh, come on!” Daniel heard Kawalsky cry over the sparking pain. “He told you everything he knows!”

“It’s the truth, okay?!” Jack shouted. “You don’t have to believe us, but it’s the truth!”

“Your _lies,”_ Apophis hissed venomously, “tell me nothing. If you will not explain your magic, then you are of no use to me.”

“Magic isn’t real!” Jack insisted through gritted teeth as he helped Daniel back up to his knees.

Daniel leaned heavily on his friend as he attempted to shrug off the lingering tingles of pain. He still found the resolve to glare furiously at the Goa’uld. Apophis opened his mouth to spout more nonsense when a cry from outside the Stargate control room drew the false god’s attention.

“My lord Apophis!” a Jaffa called, rushing unceremoniously into the control room, barely avoiding Jack, Daniel, Kawalsky, and Teal’c still kneeling under the eager attention of several armed staff weapons. The Jaffa paused about a yard from Apophis gasping for breath and eyes wide with fright.

Okay, Daniel was curious.

The Jaffa gave a tardy bow of respect to the Goa’uld before straightening and rushing to speak. “Nephthys is here!”

Nephthys? Kaiba? Oh, this was going to be good. Daniel bit back a small grin.

“What?!” Apophis demanded, eyes flashing furiously. “Heru’ur has no claim here.”

What?

“My lord,” the Jaffa said, stumbling over his words in his rush to explain. “He commanded me to send you a message.” Apophis sneered in derision and the Jaffa quickly bowed, hoping to avoid the System Lord’s anger before continuing. “Nephthys said Tau’ri is his by hereditary right and that _we_ are the trespassers. He said if you do not withdraw immediately, he would kill you with his bare hands.” Anticipating retaliation, the Jaffa quickly dropped to one knee and covered his eyes in respect.

Daniel frowned and studied Apophis’ expression. The Goa’uld’s dark face was regal despite the rage distorting his features. “Heru’ur has no claim on this planet,” Apophis said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. His lifted his chin to glare down at the Jaffa at his feet with disdain. “Nor has he made any move to reclaim his Queen’s territory.”

Oh. Shit.

“Daniel?” Jack whispered warily near the archaeologist’s ear. Daniel grimaced because, yeah, this wasn’t the best news of the day. At least now they knew what happened to the Kaiba of this reality. What could possibly have happened to change his fate so drastically between realities?

“If Nephthys is moving now, then Heru’ur will not be far behind,” Apophis continued. “Jaffa,” he snapped to the warrior holding Daniel at zat-point, “send word to my armies to prepare for Heru’ur’s arrival.”

“Forgive me, my lord Apophis,” the kneeling Jaffa spoke up. “But there is more.”

Annoyed, the System Lord flexed the hand adorned by a golden kara kesh. “Speak,” he commanded.

“The others who fought Nephthys are dead,” the unfortunate Jaffa reported, the wince audible in his voice.

Dark eyes flashed gold. “What?”

“I couldn’t see from my vantage point,” the Jaffa said. “But when the darkness faded, the others were dead and only Nephthys was still standing.”

Apophis drew a slow, deep breath. “And you ran,” he purred.

“Forgive me, my lord,” the Jaffa pleaded. “I have never seen a weapon capable of such destruction before. I thought you would want to be made aware of it.”

Daniel did too. What the holy hell had Kaiba _done_ to scare a Jaffa so badly? One cautious glance at Jack next to him revealed the same wary curiosity of a military man.

Apophis said nothing as he raised his kara kesh adorned hand and held his palm out so it hovered just short of the kneeling Jaffa’s forehead. But he never got the chance to execute the cowardly warrior.

Instead, the System Lord vanished when beams of pure white light streamed over the the Goa’uld’s body. Daniel blinked and the other Jaffa in the room with the sole exception of Teal’c vanished in identical beams of light.

“Give you two guesses,” Jack muttered, looking around them for any sign of an attack.

Then the body of General Hammond vanished and Daniel nodded with a sigh in relief. “The Asgard.”

Thank God.

* * *

He blinked, staggering in surprise at the abrupt change of scenery. The walls that surrounded him were not stone and cement but an odd gray metal with just the slightest hint of red. It wasn’t Earth design nor was it Goa’uld. Seto _hated_ not knowing things, especially when his ears were still ringing painfully.

Adjusting his grip on the Millennium Rod, Seto turned in a slow circle studying his surroundings. None of it was even remotely familiar. His left hand twitched around the red jewel of the silver kara kesh, anticipating an enemy to jump out at him from behi-

The Shadows warned him of the stranger’s approach before he saw them. Whirling around, Seto brought up the Rod so the handle’s bladed tip of the slashed towards the approximate location of the enemy’s throat. A split second before the Rod made contact, Seto actually _saw_ who it was and managed to divert his attack harmlessly to the side. Barely.

Dr. Carter’s bright blue eyes were wide with fright as she stared at him in shock. Seto stepped back and lowered his hands, slipping the protective cover over the Rod’s handle blade and slipping it back into his belt loop as a show of trust. He nodded apologetically and Dr. Carter hesitantly returned the gesture.

Seto was now fairly certain he was on an Asgard mothership. If Dr. Carter was here and here was _not_ Earth or a Goa’uld mothership, then the only other option that made sense was an Asgard mothership. If that was the case, then Seto was going to get a good look at the interior of the legendary space-faring vessel while he had the chance.

The Goa’uld only spoke of Asgard motherships in either fearful warnings in the dark corners of their layers or awe-filled legends told to young Jaffa children. That Seto was _inside_ one now was simultaneously amazing and disorienting. He lifted his gaze to actually study and appreciate the design of the ship. Everything was smooth and streamlined with nothing extraneous in sight. It was impressive and made him feel small by comparison.

Dr. Carter’s slender hand returned to his arm jerking his attention back to her. She was giving him an oddly confused look. Her mouth moved but her words were just muffled sounds barely audible over the ringing in his ears. He sighed and tapped one of his ears.

“I can’t hear you,” he said, hoping he wasn’t yelling. It wasn’t like he could hear himself to be sure.

The doctor of astrophysics frowned and mouthed, “Why? What happened?”

Seto shrugged. He burnt a bunch of Jaffa to a crisp with lightning. “Flash-bang,” he said simply.

Comprehension dawned and she nodded. She turned and said something to someone Seto couldn’t see. He turned curiously and saw nothing. At first. Then his gaze dropped and he blinked. Well. This was… unexpected.

The Asgard -because that little gray alien could only be an Asgard- regarded Seto from behind his control podium with large, pupilless black eyes in an expressionless face. The Asgard couldn’t possibly be taller than three feet and its skin was gray which was flushed faintly pink with life. Its movements were slow and graceful as it waved a hand in Seto’s direction and its lips moved soundlessly.

Seto frowned in incomprehension, unable to read the Asgard’s lips to guess what it was saying. Dr. Carter’s hand on his arm tightened briefly before falling away. He glanced at her curiously, waiting for her to-

-speak… Okay. Now where was he? And why, _by Obelisk,_ was he lying on his back?

“Kaiba?”

His gaze flickered to the speaker, taking in her blonde hair and blue eyes. Dr. Carter? Why as she standing above him? He _hated_ it when his autonomy was messed with without his knowledge or permission.

“Can you hear me?”

…He could hear her? How much time had passed since he’d been put under? Restoring his hearing back to normal should take at least a full couple hours without the use of his healing device.

Sarcophagus?!

He had already pushed Dr. Carter away and scrambled to his feet, wedging himself in a corner as far away from her as he could get in the oddly shaped room and clutching his head. A sarcophagus. He’d been put in a sarcophagus! How long was he in it? What had it done to him? Could he trust his mind? What damage had it done? Would he have to go through withdrawal yet _again?!_ He’d barely survived withdrawal last time. If Mokuba hadn’t found him when he did-

“Kaiba?”

“What did you do?” he demanded furiously. “What did-”

He finally got a good look the piece if technology he’d fled and his heart rate slowly began to ease. It wasn’t a sarcophagus. Dear Obelisk, god of the Balance between Heaven and Earth, it _wasn’t_ a sarcophagus. He breathed a sigh of intense relief.

“I would appreciate it greatly if you did not cause harm to those on my ship.”

Sitting up straight in surprise, Seto’s gaze jerked to the speaker. Asgard.

And Seto was still curled in a fetal position in front of a possible enemy. Over his dead body.

As quickly and efficiently as he could, Seto got to his feet, still keeping his distance from both Dr. Carter and the Asgard. He trusted Dr. Carter to a point but the Asgard were the arch-nemesis of the Goa’uld System Lords. Seto may not be a System Lord, but he _was_ a Goa’uld and he was fully aware of the devastation the Asgard’s far superior technology was capable of. The Asgard race may be a… diminutive race -more so than he ever realized- but they were a force to be reckoned with and Seto had no desire to test that force.

“I am surprised,” the Asgard continued in a calm tone, placing a gray, three fingered hand on the piece of technology Seto had escaped from. “I was made aware that you are from another reality, but I did not anticipate your personality to be so starkly different from your counterpart here.”

Set frowned. “Is that the best insult you can come up with?” he said, choosing to focus his gaze on the Asgard and not the odd technology that healed him.

The bulbous gray head tilted in quiet consideration. “Perhaps I spoke too soon.” Solid black eyes studied Seto closely. “What did you think was done to you?” the Asgard asked.

Seto couldn’t stop himself from glancing swiftly at the healing device he’d escaped from moments ago as he considered his answer carefully. “The only times I have ever been healed and lost time was when I was in a sarcophagus,” he said grimly. “I do not wish to suffer the effects of its addiction again.”

He didn’t think he would survive it this time.

“Addiction?” Dr. Carter asked in confused interest. “The sarcophagus is addictive?”

“Extremely,” the Asgard said, nodding. It regarded Seto silently for a moment before speaking once more. “I am Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet.”

Oh. This day had gone straight to Osiris. Shit.

“I have had many names over the years,” Seto said hesitantly. “Though I prefer Seto Kaiba.” He glanced at Dr. Carter. “I assume that is not the name I use in this reality.”

“It is not,” Thor replied. “I believe you chose the name Nephthys since Ra’s ultimate demise.”

Sensible. If the circumstances of Seto’s original name change were the same in both realities, then reverting to Nephthys was the ultimate insult to Ra. Vengeance was indeed sweet. Seto almost wished he could have seen the looks on the faces of this reality’s System Lords when his counterpart here revealed his true name. However, that did leave a few lingering questions.

“I’m a System Lord then,” Seto deduced, ignoring the stricken expression on Dr. Carter’ face. “Have I taken a consort?”

“You have been Heru’ur’s queen for the past several thousand years,” Thor explained in a patient tone.

“Wait,” Dr. Carter muttered in dawning comprehension. “Heru’ur? _You’re_ Heru’ur’s queen?”

“My counterpart seems to be,” Seto said thoughtfully. “Does the little bird still have a penis?” he added with a wicked smirk.

Dr. Carter’s face flushed a brilliant shade of red but Thor appeared entirely unmoved.

“His previous host did not,” Thor said. “I believe his current host does.”

Seto sniffed in disdain. “Pity.” Speaking of System Lords… “Since you’re here,” he continued, “I can assume the snake Apophis and his minions have been removed.”

The Asgard nodded gracefully. “I have my ship beaming the remaining Goa’uld from the Earth’s surface back into their ships in orbit,” she confirmed.

“You should have killed them,” Seto warned.

“Should they attempt to resist, I shall,” Thor said.

“Apophis has no honor,” Seto hissed. “He would sooner conquer this planet and ruin all of your hard work the moment you turn your gaze away.”

“And we will be here to stop him should he make such an attempt,” Thor said, refusing to rise to the bait.

Reining in his temper with the tight control he spent millennia mastering, Seto sneered. “You weren’t there when we needed you,” he snapped viciously.

Thor hummed. “I will not ask what made you choose a different path in your reality,” he said, drawing a frown from Seto. “But I can say with a great degree of certainty that once your counterpart in this reality discovers what Apophis attempted to do here,” the Asgard tilted his head in deliberation, “there will be very little chance Apophis will be capable of doing anything but defending his own territory.”

“Um…”

Both Seto and Thor turned to Dr. Carter who was still very red in the face but at least mostly back in control of herself. “What does any of this have to do with Heru’ur’s, mm, penis?” she asked.

Seto grinned vindictively. “I found out he cheated me, cheated _on_ me, then lied to my face about it. So I defeated him in a public duel, burned off his hair, and cut off his penis so everyone would see his shame.”

Dr. Carter made a choking sound and tried very hard to hide the amused and embarrassed grin tugging at her lips.

“I need to return,” Seto said, turning his attention back to Thor once Dr. Carter’s amusement passed. “I can’t stay in this reality much longer without experiencing… unpleasant side effects.”

Thor nodded graciously. “Of course.” He turned gracefully to face another healing device that reminded Seto uncomfortably of a sarcophagus and… There was someone in it. “He should be healed as well, Dr. Carter,” he continued. “I will return you to the location I beamed him from.”

“That would be great. Thanks,” Dr. Carter said with a grateful smile.

After a moment of hesitation, the scientist dropped to one knee and swept Thor into a gentle hug, before stepping back and hurrying to the healing device. Both Thor and Seto stared after with wide eyes.

“Are all Humans preferential to such personal contact?” Thor asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

Seto groaned. “Yes,” he admitted. “But she’s an American. They tend to be more physically affectionate than other cultures.”

“Ah.”

Without another word, Thor moved back to the nearby control panel and slid a palm sized white stone across it. White light flashed and Dr. Carter vanished along with whoever was inside the healing device.

“Is there a reason why you didn’t send me as well?” Seto said cautiously, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I wasn’t sure if you would feel comfortable answering my last question with her here,” Thor said simply. The Asgard’s ebony gaze settled unblinkingly on Seto. “I am curious. The weapon you wear at your belt is unlike any my ship’s scans have ever seen before. It distorts the space around it to avoid any attempt to scan it.”

What the hell. His day was already in Osiris’ claws anyway.

“I’m not surprised,” Seto said, his expression wary. “It doesn’t like being scrutinized.”

“You speak of it as if it is sentient,” Thor said.

“What makes you think it isn’t?” Seto countered.

Thor appeared to give the question serious thought. “Is it sentient?” he asked eventually.

Seto hesitated. “It is,” he admitted reluctantly. “Though not like you and me. Its sentience is more basic, revolving around instinct. It chose me to wield it. If anyone else attempts to steal it and use it, they will die. And I promise you,” he narrowed his eyes in warning, “the death is not quick, nor is it painless. Burning to death rarely is.”

Thor hummed. “I see. I will consider myself warned.”

Light flashed across Seto’s vision and he once again stood in the control room overlooking the Chappa'ai. With a sigh, he braced for the influx of questions he really didn’t feel like answering.


	23. Indirect Aid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kawalsky has trust issues, Daniel is good at soothing feathers, Dr. Carter has a lot of questions, Kaiba is touchy about some subjects, and Daniel and Teal'c are bad at pretending not to listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I graduate in two days. So close, y'all. So close! Random fact: we had a 4.4 earthquake early this morning. Did I feel it? Nope. I slept right through it. My superpower is sleeping through cool stuff apparently. -_-
> 
>  **Some clarification:** In the canon SG-1 reality, the Stargate and SG-1 belong to the SGC (Stargate Command). But in Dr. Carter's reality, it's the SGA (the 'A' is never explained).

When the white light of the Asgard beaming technology came to life in the control room once more, Daniel thought maybe it was an actual Asgard who'd decided to come down and join them. He certainly didn't expect Kaiba to emerge from the light instead. Apparently, the Tok'ra seemed to be just as surprised, if a bit less expressive about it. The widening of the glacial blue eyes was the only visible tell Kaiba had that Daniel could see.

Then those eyes locked on Daniel and narrowed when they noticed the lesion on the archaeologist's forehead. Without a word, Kaiba knelt and pulled a gold and red device from his pocket. After slipping it onto his hand, Kaiba lifted the device up and activated it.

"Woah. _Hey!"_

A hand struck out from Daniel's right and grabbed Kaiba's collar, pulling the Tok'ra back. The glow from the device faded as it deactivated. Kaiba's eyes gleamed in annoyance a split second before he lashed out with two, sharp jabs to Kawalsky's arm. The airman gasped in dismayed shock when his arm suddenly fell limp and useless by his side.

"I don't tend to react well to attacks from behind," Kaiba said, his calm voice a stark counter to his annoyed expression. "Especially when I'm healing."

"Son of a-" Kawalsky stared at his useless arm, then up at the Tok'ra. "What the hell did you do?"

"Temporary paralysis," Kaiba said, crouching back by Daniel's side and raising the Goa'uld healing device once more. "It'll fade in an hour or so."

"Neat trick," Jack said, eyeing the Tok'ra from where he stood by the newly revived General Hammond. "Teach me?"

Kaiba's lips twitched in the barest hint of a smile. "It's a martial art form that's not taught often anymore," he said.

Jack snorted. "Show off."

That was definitely a smirk.

"Thanks," Daniel grumbled as Kaiba finally leaned back.

He pressed a hand against his forehead and winced. The area was still tender but the wound itself was closed. He flashed a weak smile at Kaiba who frowned suspiciously in return before standing and pocketing the device.

"So that's it?" Dr. Carter said, her expression hopeful. "That's all?"

Teal'c nodded. "I believe so. Apophis will no doubt spread the word of Earth's inclusion into the Protected Planets Treaty to the other System Lords," he said. "It is likely you will hear from them soon to complete the negotiations regarding the specifications of the Treaty in short order."

Dr. Carter took a deep, steadying breath and nodded grimly. "Great."

"I'm guessing the Goa'uld will insist on coming in person for the negotiations," General Hammond said, his elderly eyes sharp despite the death and destruction he'd faced in the past few days.

"They will, yes," Daniel replied, with a nod. "If the format is the same as ours was, then there will be three System Lords and one Asgard present. No weapons will be allowed and only the chosen Earth representative will be allowed to actually discuss the terms with them."

"Just one?" the general demanded. "Why just one? How do we know they won't try something?"

"You should," Kaiba said suddenly. "The System Lords will continuously try to talk around both you and the terms. They live for loopholes and exceptions. The Asgard will be a deterrent against any thoughts of outright violence or shows of force, but it won't stop the intrigue and squabbling."

"Kaiba's right," Daniel said, nodding. "During our… negotiations-"

"They were offended by 'hello,' by the way," Jack added.

Daniel continued despite his friend's predictable interjection. "-Nirrti, one of the System Lords in attendance, attempted to murder Cronus and frame Teal'c for it."

Dr. Carter looked horrified. "Why?" she gasped. "I thought they were on the same side. In this instance, anyway."

"Hardly," Kaiba scoffed, leaning back against the heavily damaged control panel overlooking the 'Gate Room. "The System Lords are only loyal to themselves. Use their squabbling against them, if you can. Figure out who hates who and who controls what. Treat it like a business deal with your worst competitors while in the midst of a hostile takeover."

…Suddenly Daniel understood how Kaiba managed to be such a ruthless business mogul and it was slightly unnerving.

"Good to know," Dr. Carter said slowly, nodding thoughtfully as she processed the information.

"If you're done here," Kaiba said, crossing his arms and turning his gaze to Jack, "then I'd like to go home now."

Home. Not 'our Earth.' Home. Interesting choice of words. And Jack was looking at him now. Right. That was his cue.

"I'll go take care of that part," Daniel said, waving away Jack's expectant look.

"Take Teal'c with you," Jack said, nodding to the Jaffa.

"That won't be necessary," Kaiba said, straightening and moving to stand behind Daniel.

"Oh," Jack countered with a sarcastic grin, "I insist."

Daniel bit back the urge to roll his eyes at his friend's antics as he moved towards the steps leading down to the adjacent hallway. He grimaced when Teal'c took the lead. He knew it made sense to have Teal'c lead, but it did irk him a bit. Okay, it really just jabbed his ego more than anything else but-

"I'll go too," Dr. Carter said quickly, falling into step behind both Daniel and Kaiba.

Startled, Daniel blinked and turned to see and equally surprised expression on the Tok'ra's face. Kaiba shifted slightly to accommodate Dr. Carter's inclusion in their little party before continuing down the hallway behind Daniel and Teal'c.

The walk to the Quantum Mirror was more of a trek considering the amount of debris and bodies they had to climb over and around. Daniel had a sneaking suspicion most of the Jaffa bodies were Kaiba's doing. He glanced surreptitiously at the Tok'ra who seemed to be wholly unbothered by the carnage around him. Honestly, Daniel had seen a lot of death since the Stargate was first opened, but not in the actual SGC. Even if he had, the archaeologist was certain he would never fully adapt to it.

Sharp blue eyes caught his gaze and held it for several seconds before flickering to Dr. Carter. Oh. Right. Daniel looked over at the astrophysicist and winced. Daniel's Sam could stab a Jaffa in the gut as efficiently as she could shoot one through the head, but _this_ Sam was obviously not cut out for that. Not military.

"How you doing?" Daniel asked softly.

Dr. Carter glanced at him quickly, looking vaguely green in the face before swallowing thickly and nodding. Then her nose wrinkled in disgust. For a moment, Daniel wondered what she could be smelling that was so bad. Then he smelled it and wasn't sure if he wanted to round the next corner.

Yep. He didn't.

"Uh. Wow."

"Indeed," Teal'c murmured, pausing to study the dozen or so Jaffa lying on the ground.

It was hard to tell from Teal'c’s face, but Daniel was fairly certain he would recognize when his friend was both surprised and horrified. No matter how subtle and well-controlled the Jaffa may be. Not that Daniel could really blame him. The dead bodies of the fallen Jaffa on the floor were burnt beyond recognition and contorted in obviously uncomfortable positions. It was as if something has flash burned them to a crisp. Or electrocuted them.

Kaiba didn't pause to consider his surroundings. He pushed past Daniel and Teal'c and continued moving down the hallway at a brisk pace. Well, if that wasn't both an answer and stern command to _not_ question what they were seeing, Daniel would eat his notes.

Winged lightning.

Daniel wouldn't be able to shake the image of those burnt Jaffa from his mind for the rest of the day.

* * *

"I hope I'm not…"

Samantha bit her lip hesitantly. She knew Kaiba was listening to her even if he wasn't looking at her. She also knew Daniel and Teal'c were listening too. That's what made her nervous and choose her words so carefully. She didn't want to offend the Tok'ra, but she also wanted answers.

"I wanted to thank you for everything you've done," she said finally. The surprise in the Tok'ra's blue eyes gave her hope that she had settled on the right way to start the conversation. "You've been a great help."

Kaiba blinked before deliberately turning away from her to face the ever-changing surface of the Quantum Mirror. It wasn't a dismissal, but it did make her realize something. She went over every one of her interactions with Kaiba from the moment she met him. He'd been polite if distant and his words were always sharp and direct but truthful.

More importantly, he'd saved her life. He didn't have to. He'd chosen to even though it resulted in him stuck in her reality with no preparation or way to leave except if they succeeded in contacting the Asgard. Once here, Kaiba had obviously been annoyed but he'd done his share of dealing with Apophis' Jaffa. And not once had he made any demands, took any credit, or been thanked by anyone other than Samantha and Daniel.

"I do have a question though," she said, watching Kaiba's expression closely. The downturn of the Tok'ra's lips was subtle but spoke volumes. Still, she was a scientist and curiosity was a hazard of her profession. Now, how to word this without coming off as offensive. "I was wondering… What made you decide to go against the System Lords in your reality?"

Kaiba scoffed, his lips sketching a dry smirk. "It wasn't any one thing," he said. "It was a series of things. Little things."

Samantha noticed the way one of Teal'c eyebrows lifted ever so slightly and Daniel was studiously _not_ looking at them.

"Was there something that…" She gestured vaguely. "I guess, kick-started everything?"

"Yes."

She waited patiently. Then she noticed the cheeky grin on Kaiba's face and sighed. "You aren't going to tell me, are you?" she said in resignation.

"No," he replied, obviously enjoying himself.

She huffed.

"But maybe I would if you ask the right questions," he added.

The right questions? But she _was_ asking the right questions. She was asking what she wanted to know. How could those be the wrong questions? Unless maybe he wanted her to be more specific? She licked her lips as she ran through what she'd learned from Thor again in her mind.

"You changed your name," she said. "I'm guessing you changed it both in this reality and in yours." Kaiba didn't speak but he wasn't countering her either. Taking that as permission to continue, she spoke again. "Thor said you changed your name back to Nephthys after we killed Ra in this reality. I'm guessing that means Nephthys was your original name. Why did you change it to begin with?"

"Because I was wanted as a fugitive." Kaiba's gaze flicked to her before returning to the Quantum Mirror's changing surface. "I betrayed and aided in a rebellion against Ra. We failed. I was able to help some escape but I was unable to follow. So I stayed behind, changed by name, and hid on Earth."

Teal'c eyebrow lifted further. Samantha wondered if the Jaffa knew something she didn't. He probably did.

"Ra didn't know what you looked like?" she asked.

Kaiba's head tilted slightly down in what could pass as a nod. "No, he didn't. We never met face-to-face." He blinked, his gaze slipping to somewhere in the middle space. "I believe that was by design less so than by coincidence."

"Why?" she pressed.

"Because Setesh had his own plans to gain power and influence," Kaiba said simply. "If Ra knew about the presence of a queen not under his control, it's likely I would have been killed and that would not have served Setesh's plans."

Setesh? Was that supposed to be Set in Egyptian mythology? Wait. Nephthys. Set. But…

"I thought you used the name Set," she said.

"I do." He smirked. "I still do. My given name is Seto."

Subtle.

"You'd be amazed how much people miss even when it's right in front of them," Kaiba said calmly. "They only see what they expect to see. Seto may be not be a common name, but there is a Seto River in Japan so the name is not unheard of."

That was wickedly clever.

"But why Set?" Samantha wondered. "Wouldn't this Setesh know to look for that name?"

Kaiba shook his head. "No. He's a System Lord. He would never stoop to that unless he had no other choice."

"Like you didn't," she said.

The Tok'ra said nothing.

"Since your counterpart here is Heru'ur's queen, I'm guessing the myth of the Contentions of Set and Horus are based on you two," she said. "Is any of it true?"

Kaiba snorted. "Most of it, on the surface anyway." He turned to look at her directly, dark amusement dancing in his glacial eyes. "We didn't build boats out of stone or any of that sort of thing," he explained, "but we did compete in tournaments and feats of the mind. He was physically stronger than me but he was no match for my mind. In the deciding competition, he won." His grin faded. "Or so I thought."

_"He cheated me, cheated **on** me, then lied to my face about it."_

She wisely chose not to pursue that tidbit of information.

"As for the rape," Kaiba continued, and Dr. Jackson fumbled the Mirror's remote in shock, "that's wholly a work of fiction. I seduced him and he came willingly, in every way imaginable."

Oh god.

"It wasn't difficult," Kaiba added, a playful leer growing on his face as he observed her and Dr. Jackson's discomfort. "All I had to do was get him drunk and hint at being an unattached queen and he did the rest."

"I get the picture," she said quickly, holding up a hand to halt and further 'explanations.'

"He was the best choice," Kaiba said, deliberately ignoring her plea. "As the son of Ra and Hathor, he was a powerful System Lord with widespread influence. My lineage may be questioned, but with the support of the Supreme System Lord Ra and First Queen Hathor, Heru'ur could get away with not giving any details. For all the other System Lords knew, I could have been bred solely for him by Hathor."

Samantha tried not to gag at the thought of inbreeding. "Why the hell would…"

Wait. Queen. Samantha had been operating under the belief that 'queen' was just a title but Kaiba seemed to imply otherwise. She once theorized it had something to do with hierarchy, but what if it didn’t? What if it was something more basic than that? She frowned. She knew there was a clear difference between the regular Goa'uld and the queens, but she had never been able to isolate what that exact difference was.

The Goa'uld were symbiotic serpents. They were extremely intelligent and downright deadly when in a host, but ultimately helpless when outside of a host. Maybe that was the root of her problem. She and the SGA of her reality had classified the Goa'uld as sentient creatures much like humans in regards to social structures, but what if that wasn't accurate? Before the Goa'uld took hosts, and even when they did, they were still, at their very basic, serpents. Snakes. Animals.

If she classified them as something belonging to the animal kingdom instead, then… Ant colonies had queens. Bees had queens. Actually, now that Samantha thought about it, females in most of the natural world had most of the power. Females of many species of spiders and praying mantises often ate their mates after breeding with them. The females were often larger and stronger than males too.

When living in groups like bees and ants, the females were the driving force. The queens were the most important member of the groups because of their size and their ability to give birth.

Oh.

That made her head hurt a bit.

"So you're… female?" she asked.

"If you mean sexually, then yes," Kaiba replied. "But if you mean gender-wise, then no. The Goa'uld have no gender, though we have preferences for host genders. This often comes from experience more than anything else."

"And you prefer male hosts?"

Kaiba huffed, one corner of his mouth lifting. "I've come to, yes."

Samantha frowned. "You've come to? You didn't always?"

"I've never experienced anything else," he said in a matter-of-fact tone that implied he'd rather not talk about it.

"Have you considered taking a female host?" Samantha asked, hoping she wasn't pressing too far.

Kaiba clicked his tongue. "And leave this host?" He gave her a look that implied he thought the very suggestion insane. "I would rather die."

She frowned, not sure if she should be offended or not. "What's wrong with a female host?"

"It wouldn't be mine."

Not _his?_

"And the one you currently have is ‘yours’?" she asked.

"It's the only one I've ever had. So yes, it's mine."

This time, Daniel stopped pretending to ignore them and turned to face Kaiba with an unreadable expression. "You've only had one host?" he asked.

Kaiba shot the archaeologist a look. "Why would I change hosts?" he countered. "I like this one. I know how it works, how it feels, and what to expect from it. If I changed, I'd lose all of that and it would never feel like it was truly mine."

Dr. Jackson's lips parted in quiet surprise. "You have a sarcophagus," he breathed.

What? But Kaiba said-

"Had," the Tok'ra said. "I destroyed it when I realized it was interfering with my ability to think straight."

The archaeologist's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "You _noticed_ what it was doing to you?"

Samantha _really_ wanted to get her hands on a sarcophagus. If she could figure out what caused the addiction, then maybe she could work on finding a way to counter it. And Kaiba did not look very comfortable under Dr. Jackson's gaze.

With an unusual reluctance, Kaiba sighed. "Not at first," he admitted. "My children noticed and convinced me. In a moment of lucidity, I destroyed the device." Blue eyes slipped away from Dr. Jackson's gaze. "The result was preferable, but the withdrawal was… not."

Abruptly, Kaiba rolled his shoulders and drew himself up with an impassive expression. "I have business to attend to and a hawk to calm down so can we get this over with?"

Samantha blinked. A hawk? What did a bird have to do with anything? Judging by Dr. Jackson's reaction, it meant something to the archaeologist. However, when Samantha glanced at Teal'c, she felt relieved to know she was not the only one confused by the comment.

Still, she held her tongue until Dr. Jackson finally found the correct reality. Once he voiced the confirmation, Kaiba unfolded his arms and pushed past her and the archaeologist to press a hand against the Mirror's surface. Faint, blue energy flashed over him and he vanished, reappearing on the other side. His blue eyes met her own, flashed gold, then he turned and strode briskly out of sight.

"Bye to you too," Dr. Jackson murmured.

Samantha grimaced, wondering if she'd ended up pushing too hard. She hadn't meant to. But Kaiba was actually talking. He'd said more right then than he had since they met and she wasn't going to turn down an opportunity like that. Especially if his counterpart here was still a System Lord. She needed to know as much about his counterpart's weaknesses as possible if she and the SGA had any chance of defeating him.

Or they could turn him. She turned that possibility over and over in her head, scrutinizing it. If she could find a way to convince Kaiba's System Lord counterpart to betray the System Lords like Dr. Jackson's version of Teal'c had, then Earth would have a powerful ally. She'd have to give that more thought, after her Earth was started on the road to recovery. She tucked her hands in her pants pockets and-

Something crinkled there and she frowned in confusion. Pulling out the paper, she unfolded it and stared at the photograph. She didn't recognize the it. Where had it come from? She didn't remember having anything in her pockets earlier. When had-

Kaiba was in the background. He was holding a young boy with messy black hair on his shoulders and looking at the photographer. He must have slipped the printed photo into her pocket when he bumped her. Why would he do that?

She studied the three boys in the center of the photograph, but they weren't familiar. However, if they were in a photo with Kaiba, then they must be important. Maybe they existed in her reality. If she could find them, then maybe she could figure out why Kaiba gave her this photo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Okay, some of you may have gotten an update email a day or so ago and I am SORRY! My tablet's detachable keyboard burped so I had to use the tablet's touchscreen keybaord which is hellishly stupid. It vanishes without warning, does things without permission, and just... UGH! So, long story short, I hit 'Preview' and the touchscreen keyboard vanished, adjusting the web page view so I ended up hitting 'Post without Preview' instead. I quickly deleted the chapter because it was not ready. But it is now. Again, I'm sorry for the false alarm.


	24. Medical Debrief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dr. Fraiser finally makes her debut, General Hammond begins gathering the pieces together, and Daniel is a very guilty, awkward child who knows better than to cross Dr. Janet Fraiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I may not be able to update tomorrow night because of graduation and such, but I'll try. That said, Kaiba's doesn't directly appear in this chapter, but he does play a main role. As for the rest of the YGO gang, they'll be coming back to the fore shortly. This is the end of the Quantum Mirror arc and the beginning of the next arc.
> 
> As usual, I'm exhausted so I won't seriously edit this until tomorrow morning when I'm more awake and aware. That said, forgive the few mistakes I miss and enjoy~
> 
> Translations and Lingo:  
> *NID \- a classified government branch, primarily civilian run, that has a bad habit of leading clandestine attempts to gather alien technology for the stated purpose of protecting Earth. *cough* bullshit *cough* Who! Excuse me. What does 'NID' mean? That's classified.  
> *hok'tar \- Goa'uld slang for a superhuman or advanced human; someone with preternatural/supernatural abilities; most often the result of genetic engineering and manipulation; the System Lord Nirrti has a history of experimenting on humans to create a hok'tar as a host and almost killed Cassandra, Dr. Janet Fraiser's adopted daughter  
> *Lichtenberg lines \- a real phenomenon; occurs when lightning strikes victims; Google it, it's pretty neat to look at

The soft knock on his office door pulled him from his thoughts. “Come in,” he called.

The door opened to reveal Dr. Janet Fraiser. The medical doctor still wore her traditional white lab coat with her long brown hair pulled into a professional bun, but her free hand was tucked in one of her coat pockets and her expression wasn’t tense or worried. Hopefully, that meant her visit wasn’t a sign of bad things to come.

“Dr. Fraiser,” he said, offering the woman a welcoming smile. “Please sit down.”

“Thank you, General,” she said, closing the door behind her and pulling up the chair opposite Hammond’s desk.

“What can I do for you?” Hammond asked, setting his paperwork aside and giving the doctor his undivided attention.

Dr. Fraiser sighed as she slumped in the chair and thought for a moment. “Well, I just finished checking up on Daniel, Jack, and Teal’c. They’re all a bit bruised from Apophis’ Jaffa, but otherwise they’re in good health. I suggest they get some rest tonight but they should be ready for a full day’s work by tomorrow morning,” she reported.

Hammond nodded. “Good,” he said. “Glad to hear it.”

He waited, watching Dr. Fraiser with the patience only a grandfather of two beautiful and rambunctious granddaughters could have. Dr. Fraiser smiled, knowing she’d been seen through and leaned forward so she could rest a hand on Hammond’s desk.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed,” she eyed Hammond who chuckled quietly in agreement, “it’s Seto Kaiba I’ve come to talk about.”

“I figured.”

She smiled briefly. “I did as many tests as he would allow and, while some things are still being worked on by the lab, I think I can say I have the beginnings of a decent medical baseline for him.”

“Good. Anything unusual stand out?” Hammond asked, eager to learn more about their latest potential ally.

The doctor nodded. “Actually yes,” she said, sounding mildly surprised. “To start with, you should know Kaiba is incredibly skittish around anything medical.”

Hammond tilted his head in wry acknowledgement. “I’m not surprised,” he said simply. “The Tok’ra from off-world aren’t appreciative of our measures either.”

“Yes, but that’s more of an annoyance or an inconvenience,” Dr. Fraiser said with a dismissive wave. “They act like toddlers about to get a shot.”

Hammond chuckled in agreement. “That is fairly accurate.”

The smile Dr. Fraiser offered in return was hesitant. “Kaiba’s hesitancy, I think, comes from something else.” She glanced over to the star map etched on Hammond’s office window overlooking the briefing room in thought before continuing. “I think he’s had a bad experience in a medical facility. Perhaps more than one.”

Hammond’s amusement faded as quickly as it had come. “What do you mean?”

“He would only allow _me_ to come near him and kept a close eye on everything I said and did,” she said. “He also refused to go anywhere near the MRI machine.”

“Refused?”

Dr. Fraiser nodded. “I think we’d have to sedate him to get him in there. I get the feeling he doesn’t do too well in small, enclosed spaces.”

Hammond considered that. “Good to know,” he murmured. “Anything else?”

“Now, this may be too early to tell,” Dr. Fraiser said, waving a hand absently, “and Kaiba is the only Goa’uld queen I’ve ever worked with directly, but I think queen symbiotes may be larger than other Goa’uld symbiotes.”

Now that was interesting. “What makes you say that?”

“Well,” the doctor said up, crossing her legs comfortably, “when I felt around Kaiba’s throat, I could feel the symbiote more clearly. Now usually when a symbiote has taken a host, I may feel some swelling around the nape of the neck and near the base of the skull but it takes an MRI to confirm its presence. With Kaiba, I could feel the symbiote distinctly with just my hands.” She shrugged. “Granted, I couldn’t feel it in detail, and if I didn’t know what to look for, I probably would’ve just thought he had some swollen lymph nodes.”

Hammond nodded. “But because you _did_ know what to look for…”

“I could feel it clear as day,” Dr. Fraiser confirmed. “Also, I’m pretty sure Kaiba could feel me pressing him and I think it may have hurt a little. I saw him rubbing his throat when he thought my back was turned.”

Hammond hummed.

“Sir,” she began, “while I was checking Daniel, he told me about some of the damage Kaiba did to Apophis’ forces in the other reality. Neither he nor Teal’c could figure out how he pulled some of that off. I don’t know if SG-1 has submitted their report to you yet-”

“They haven’t,” Hammond said. “I’m expecting it sometime this evening.” He smiled wryly. “If Jack decides to finish it on time.”

Dr. Fraiser rolled her eyes at her friend’s predictable antics. Jack was many things, but mature was very rarely one of them. She sometimes wondered if she should start keeping a stash of suckers and stickers just to keep him from complaining after a checkup.

“Kaiba was pretty tightlipped about the whole ordeal,” she said, “but Jack and Daniel weren’t.” Her brow furrowed in consternation, “I haven’t seen anything first hand to back up my conclusions, but I have never known Daniel to lie about what he’s seen or heard and I’m inclined to believe him no matter how crazy he may sound. So take this with a grain of salt.”

Hammond frowned and braced himself for the bad news he’d really hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with.

“I think we should keep Kaiba as far away from the NID and Nirrti as possible,” Dr. Fraiser said.

Oh dear. “That’s a pretty serious claim to make,” the general said, studying the doctor closely. “Although I agree with you about the NID.” He and the good doctor shared a look. “But I am curious about why you mention Nirrti. She’s not a Goa’uld we’ve had frequent contact with.”

“That may be true,” Dr. Fraiser said. “You’ll probably hear it from your team during the debrief later, but Daniel saw Kaiba pull off a few tricks even I can’t fully explain.”

“Such as?”

“Well, to start with, he witnessed Kaiba create a clone of himself,” Dr. Fraiser said.

Hammond blinked in disbelief, trying to process this. “He made a _clone_ of himself?” he repeated. “You’re sure it wasn’t a hologram?”

The doctor was already shaking her head. “Yes sir,” she replied. “Daniel said the clone was fully capable of fighting and communicating and acting on its own without Kaiba present. However, Daniel thinks there are limitations to how much the clone can replicate from the original. For instance, we know Kaiba had his ribbon device with him when he went through the Mirror. But Daniel said the clone didn’t have one and threw the Jaffa back without any visible technological aid.”

“There’s more,” Dr. Fraiser continued.

Bless his old heart.

“Although Daniel didn’t see it happen in person,” the doctor said calmly, “both he and Teal’c confirmed seeing the remains of at least a dozen Jaffa who had been, as Daniel put it, flash-fried.”

“Flash-fried?” Hammond said dryly. “Doctor, you realize how unrealistic this all sounds?”

“Yes sir, I am well aware,” she replied. “But Daniel and Teal’c were adamant. Daniel may not be a medical doctor but he’s not stupid and Teal’c has seen enough death to at least have a reasonable idea of a cause of death. They both told me the bodies were burned and Teal’c reported seeing markings on the exposed skin that he described as branching roots. A phenomenon we on Earth call Lichtenberg lines. It’s unique to electrical trauma and most often seen on victims of lightning strikes.”

Hammond thought back to Maj. Carter’s presentation and Teal’c mention of a weapon Nephthys was purported to wield called ‘winged lightning.’ They had assumed this ‘winged lightning’ was a drone or bomb or airborne weapon. Since Dr. Carter and Kawalsky had no trouble navigating this base, it made sense if their version was identical or close to it. There was no way a drone could fly well in the SGC so it stood to reason a drone attack in the other reality’s SGA would also be unfeasible.

That aside, Kaiba hadn’t had any obvious weapons on him except for his silver ribbon device and that odd, bladed, golden scepter. His clothes were close fitting. Even the dark blue trench coat was tailored around Kaiba’s shoulders and torso before flaring out dramatically from his waist. There weren’t may places for the Tok’ra to hide a weapon that wouldn’t have been noticed at some point.

Unless…

“Sir,” Dr. Fraiser said, cutting through Hammond progressively disturbing thoughts, “before I continue, I have to ask, during all of your interactions with Kaiba, did you notice anything…” she gestured vaguely, “unusual happen?”

“Unusual?” Hammond repeated. When the doctor nodded, Hammond leaned back in his office chair and ran through every interaction he’d had with Kaiba since they met with a fine-toothed comb. “Now that you mention it,” he said slowly in realization, “there was something I thought odd at the time. When we met in the briefing room, he got angry when I mentioned the treaty with the Asgard and his mug of coffee cracked. Neither one of us were anywhere near the mug when it happened.”

Instead of surprised, Dr. Fraiser nodded like the general had just confirmed a theory. The general went over the revelations once more and came to a conclusion he was not entirely pleased with.

“Doctor,” Hammond said slowly, “what are you trying to say?”

Dr. Fraiser sighed. “I think Kaiba’s host might be a hok’tar.”

Ah. Yes, that would be a _very_ good reason to keep Kaiba as far away from Nirrti as possible. After the atrocities that particular System Lord had committed in her inhumane experiments, the general could only imagine what she would do if she got her grimy claws into an advanced human. It also explained his unusual abilities which he would no doubt hear and read more about later during SG-1’s official debrief.

“Could this be related to Kaiba’s dislike of medical equipment as well?” Hammond asked, feeling concerned despite his misgivings.

“Not for the reasons you’re probably thinking,” Dr. Fraiser said, shaking her head.  “I believe Kaiba may be aware of the fact his host is a hok’tar and wants to keep it under wraps, true. But his reaction could also be the result of habit,” she explained. “Sam shared what information she could find on Kaiba with me and I think it’s interesting that the doctors who examined him when he first came to the orphanage in Japan found nothing wrong with him despite his obvious illness.”

“Major Carter mentioned the same thing,” Hammond agreed. “You think he may have had a hand in that.”

“Yes, I do,” the doctor said with a nod. “In that case, the avoidance was probably to prevent the doctors from discovering his symbiote. Which leads me to something else Daniel told me.” She shifted in her seat. “Apparently, Kaiba made it clear the host he currently has is the first and only host he’s ever taken.”

“He had a sarcophagus,” the general realized.

Dr. Fraiser nodded. “But Kaiba said he destroyed it. His children-”

 _“Children?”_ General Hammond gasped.

Dr. Fraiser’s eyes widened and she nodded in agreement as she continued speaking. “-supposedly warned him of the addiction changing him and he destroyed the device.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Hammond said grimly. “With the exception of the off-world Tok’ra, I’ve never heard of a Goa'uld who would avoid using a sarcophagus, not to mention outright destroying one.”

“That’s what I thought,” the doctor said. “So I cross-referenced the symptoms we recorded from Daniel’s exposure to a sarcophagus and subsequent withdrawal with the illness Kaiba was suffering from when he was taken in by the orphanage. As far as I can tell, his symptoms matched Daniel’s withdrawal symptoms almost exactly. Kaiba’s symptoms were much more serious but judging by the amount of exposure he likely experienced over the years, it makes sense.”

General Hammond rubbed his face with his hands, allowing himself to take some time to process all of this. After a few seconds, he clasped his hands on his desk and met the doctor’s sympathetic gaze.

“I don’t really know what to say,” he said.

“I do have some good news,” Dr. Fraiser said mildly. Hammond braced himself just in case. “It would seem Kaiba has some experience rebelling against Ra. Teal’c informed me Kaiba was involved in a rebellion against Ra that ultimately failed and resulted in him going into hiding. That’s supposedly when he joined forces with Heru’ur for a while.”

That was some good news, at least. Hammond waited patiently until he realized Dr. Fraiser was finished. He nodded in respectful gratitude. “Thank you for telling me, doctor,” he said. “I’ll see what else I can learn from SG-1 during the debrief and pass it along.”

“Thank you, sir,” the doctor said, getting to her feet. She paused before turning the doorknob to Hammond’s office door. “Sir,” she said, turning back to face him, “are you sure about this?”

“As sure as I can be,” Hammond replied, nodding. “Kaiba does have doctor-patient privilege and I won’t infringe on that. But I will ask that if there is anything you think I or SG-1 need to know, you pass it along. Kaiba has been informed of that condition, as you know, but I wanted to tell you personally.”

The doctor nodded gravely. “I understand,” she said. “I’ll-”

The office phone, blessedly the regular phone and not the Red Phone, suddenly rang and Hammond lifted a finger to stall the doctor from leaving. Picking up the dark colored receiver, the general held it to his ear and answered.

“Hammond,” he said.

 _“Sir,”_ the airman on the other end answered promptly. _“Just wanted to thank you for sending someone up to take care of that bird.”_

The general paused in confusion. “I beg your pardon?” he said.

 _“Sir?”_ The airman suddenly sounded just as confused as General Hammond felt. _“The hawk that got into the complex? Your man was able to get it out. I was just passing on my superior’s thanks.”_

“I see,” Hammond said slowly, trying to piece together what was going on. He certainly hadn’t sent anyone up to the upper levels for any reason in the past several hours. As for a bird in the complex, he hadn’t even been aware of that until now. “I trust no one was harmed,” he said, hoping for details.

 _“Nothing serious, sir,”_ the airman said. _“A few of the men have some scratches and some of our equipment got damaged but nothing minor repairs won’t fix. It’ll make for one hell of a story,”_ the airman added, laughter in his voice. _“Sir!”_ he added quickly to cover his slip of the tongue.

“Good to hear,” Hammond said mildly.

It certainly sounded like a story Hammond would hear about in detail one way or another over the next day or so. Still, the general hadn’t sent anyone up to take care of a bird. He glanced up at Dr. Fraiser still standing by the door and watching him in puzzled amusement, and frowned.

He wouldn’t dare.

“Airman,” Hammond said suddenly.

_“Sir.”_

“The man I sent up there,” -please don’t let him be right- “what did he look like?”

 _“Sir?”_ The airman hesitated. _“Young, early twenties, I think. Brown hair, blue eyes, wore a blue trench coat. We thought he was one of the civilians working on your level.”_

He would dare.

“He was,” Hammond said, rubbing his forehead as he began to put the pieces together. “I asked a few people to go up there, but several of them were busy. I wasn’t sure who actually made it up there. I was just curious. Once he got the bird out, did he go back to the elevator?”

 _“No sir,”_ the airman replied. _“He let the bird go outside then left. He’s got a sweet ride.”_

Which Hammond would get a good look at once he scoured the security footage of the Tok’ra. “Thank you, Airman.”

_“Sir.”_

Hammond placed the receiver on its cradle and stared at it for several seconds in annoyed disbelief. “Kaiba left,” he said.

Dr. Fraiser’s mouth opened, then shut quickly. “Sir, I assure you, I left him with my assistants in the infirmary. How would he get past them and everyone else on the base without raising an alarm?”

“The same way he got in,” Hammond said, lifting his gaze to the doctor’s. “He walked right through the front door. I’m ordering all of the surveillance video from today be sent to my office. I want to see if I can follow Kaiba’s progression into and out of the base.”

He stood and gestured for the doctor to open his office door and step out into the briefing room before following her.

“Both times, Kaiba’s presence went unnoticed until he announced himself,” the general continued. “Ally or not, that is unacceptable.”

The metallic sound of shoes on steps drew the attention of the two friends. When Daniel’s mop of brown hair rounded the bend, Hammond sighed.

“Dr. Jackson,” he said, startling the archaeologist.

“General?”

“Where’s Col. O’Neill?” Hammond asked.

“I left him in the mess hall,” Dr. Jackson said, waving at the steps. “Why? Is everything okay?”

“No, Dr. Jackson, it isn’t,” Hammond groused. “Kaiba’s gone.”

Daniel’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “I guess he was right,” he muttered, scratching his head in exasperation.

The general frowned. “Who was right?”

“Kaiba said he’d be gone by the time I- well, _we,”_ Dr. Jackson gestured to himself and back where he left O’Neill, “got back from the other reality. I was kind of hoping he’d say goodbye first.”

“Dr. Jackson,” Hammond said, “when you and Kaiba went up to the surface, who did you meet up there?”

The archaeologist blinked, befuddled for a moment before straightening and answering. “It wasn’t a person actually,” he said. “Well, not really. Technically. Ish.” He winced, a faint blush forming in his cheeks.

“I’m going to need you to be more specific,” Hammond said, catching the way Dr. Fraiser crossed her arms in motherly disappointment from her place next to him.

Dr. Jackson wilted under the good doctor’s regard. “That’s uh… We met a bird, sir.”

“A bird.”

“Yes.”

General watched the archaeologist shift from foot to foot awkwardly.

“This bird wouldn’t happen to be a hawk, would it?” Hammond asked, already knowing the answer.

Dr. Jackson straightened in surprise. “Yes, actually,” he said. “How’d you know?”

Hammond just sighed. “Because an airman from the upper levels just called me to thank me for sending someone up to take care of a hawk that somehow got into the complex and was making a mess of the place.”

The archaeologist flushed and tried hard to hide a smile.

“Dr. Jackson,” Hammond said, watching Dr. Jackson resemble a guilty child, “care to explain?”

“Uh, well,” Dr. Jackson glanced at Dr. Fraiser, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Well, you know Kaiba’s a Goa’uld queen.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Hammond demanded impatiently.

Dr. Jackson hesitated. “Would you believe me if I told you the hawk was the host of one of his children?”

One of Kaiba’s…

Lord have mercy.


	25. Driving Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anzu is a great friend, Daniel finds his purpose again, Hammond learns something that makes him think, and a woman with a necklace and vision is coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I'm not sure how, but I managed to write two chapters for two completely different stories in one day and _update_ both of those stories. And this is a _long_ chapter! Good lord. Don't take this as typical. I just happened to have the whole day free and had the drive to do it. I am now feeling the effects and whoa, my back hurts. Ugh.
> 
>  **Canon Timeline Reference:** Some time has passed since last chapter, aka the end of the last arc. This chapter begins the next arc and takes place at the tail end of S3E10 of _Stargate SG-1_ and the tail end of S2E2 of _Yu-Gi-Oh!_. So Kaiba's Battle City will begin soon and while the Yugi Gang is ready, no one else is.
> 
> You know the drill. I'll do a rough edit tonight and a serious edit tomorrow morning. Until then, enjoy~

Yugi stared down at the gleaming Puzzle in his hands. Never in his wildest dreams had it occurred to him to that one day he would solve it a second time. When Bandit Keith shattered it in that old, unused gymnasium Yugi had felt like a piece of his soul had shattered with it. Ever since he solved the Millennium Puzzle the first time, he’d felt like he had gained something he never knew he was missing.

When Keith shattered the Puzzle, Yugi felt whatever-it-was be ripped away from him. The ringing silence in his head where Yami’s voice should be terrified him and the gaping chasm in his chest where Yami’s presence should be had threatened to crush his heart. Without Yugi ever realizing it, Yami had nestled into Yugi’s psyche so thoroughly that just the _thought_ of losing the spirit terrified him to no end.

Was this what Kaiba felt about his host? Or, maybe not this exactly but something similar.

 _:It’s possible,:_ Yami whispered, appearing in his ghostly form next to Yugi on the hospital bed. He looped an arm around Yugi’s shoulders and held him close. _:If the fear of separation is anything like mine, then I don’t blame him for being so attached to his host.:_

“Do you think, one day, he’ll tell us everything?” Yugi asked. “He’s changed so much since we first met him. I used to, well, not _hate_ him but…” He flushed and ducked his head in shame. “I didn’t like him.”

 _:To be honest, I doubt any of us liked him back then,:_ Yami said, resting his incorporeal chin on Yugi’s head.

They never could understand how Yami’s spirit form could hover straight through other people and struggle with inanimate objects while freely interacting with Yugi. Eventually, Jounouchi convinced them to just accept it as ‘glowy-magic-pyramid-stuff’ and embrace it. Yugi giggled at the memory.

 _:What’s so funny?:_ Yami asked curiously.

“Nothing,” Yugi replied with a ready smile. “How are Jounouchi and Honda doing?”

Yami smiled. _:Much better. Anzu came while you were asleep and kicked them out.:_ He grinned at the disappointment he felt rippling through Yugi’s mind. _:Don’t worry. She’ll be back in the morning. I heard she has some good news for you too.:_

Yugi visibly perked up. “Really?”

* * *

“You… You got _what?!”_ Yugi cried, his voice climbing up an octave in his shock.

The brunette girl stood proudly, her hands on her hips, and a sparkle in her teal eyes as she grinned. “You heard me,” she declared. “I got the goods on the location for Kaiba’s upcoming Battle City Tournament _and_ I made sure we could _all_ go together.”

“How the heck did you pull that off?” Jounouchi cried. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to even get Kaiba to _see_ me let alone _talk_ to me?”

Mazaki Anzu covered her mouth and snickered derisively. “I suppose a woman’s touch was needed,” she teased.

Jounouchi slapped a hand over his face while Honda chortled next to him. “Gah! I don’t even want to think about that,” Joey groaned.

“Don’t worry,” Anzu said, waving away her friend’s whining. “Unless you don’t want me to tell you,” she added, resting her chin on a finger in mock thoughtfulness. “I guess I can wait until KaibaCorp makes the official announceme-”

“NO!” Honda shouted, slapping a hand on Jounouchi’s head and pushing him back down into his seat to shut him up. “We’re listening! I believe you! Tell me? Please?” He glanced at Yugi, blinked, then pointed directly at his goth friend. “At least tell Yugi!”

Yugi choked on the water he was drinking before collapsing into a ball of laughter. Predictably, Anzu gave in with a victorious smirk.

“That’s what I thought,” she said smugly. “Well, first off, you all need to pack for at least two weeks because if you think for a _second_ I’m going to let you guys go off and duel for one week solid without doing _some_ sightseeing with me, you can kiss your tickets goodbye.”

“Promise!” Honda shouted, immediately raising his hand.

Yugi smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Anzu looked squarely at Jounouchi who blushed and crossed his arms in a huff. “Fine. So long as we don’t just go shopping,” he mumbled. His grunt from Honda’s elbow to his gut was audible to Anzu across Yugi’s hospital bed.

“Oh we’ll definitely be going shopping,” Anzu said, enjoying Jounouchi’s suffering way too much. “But I’ve also looked at a few camping trips we can go on and hiking trails too! It’ll be fun.”

“That actually doesn’t sound too bad,” Jounouchi muttered in faint surprise. “I didn’t know you liked hiking, Anzu.”

She grinned. “I love it. It helps me stay in shape and besides,” she sighed happily, “the views in some of the mountainsides near Kyoto are the best.”

“You know,” Yugi said, rubbing a thumb over the golden eye on his Millennium Puzzle, “I think Yami would enjoy seeing Kyoto.”

Honda sat up straight. “Hey, that’s right!” he gasped. “He’s never seen much of Japan outside of Domino City and Tokyo.”

“We should make it a winter trip,” Anzu said, already planning several outings for that adventure. Then she shook herself. “But first, Battle City 1.” She smirked. “Got any guesses?”

The three boys looked stumped. Then Honda spoke up.

“Is it nearby?” he asked.

“Nope,” Anzu chirped, shaking her head. “It’s abroad.”

She inwardly giggled with glee when she saw her friends’ excitement skyrocket.

“America?” Yugi gasped.

“Correct!” she declared, pointing at Yugi.

"Why America?" Honda said in dismay. "KaibaCorp's based here in Japan."

"But Industrial Illusions isn't," Yugi said. "And I doubt Pegasus would let Kaiba throw a huge event like this based on the game Pegasus' company created in another country."

"Power hog," Jounouchi grumbled, crossing his arms in a huff.

Anzu pursed her lips. "It's not that bad," she said. “I think it'll be fun." She fained disinterest again. "Unless you don't want to know."

“No!” Jounouchi cried. “Just tell us, man! I’m dyin’ over here!”

She cackled. “Then I hope you’re ready for some awesome views because KaibaCorp’s Battle City 1 is in…” She paused for dramatic effect. “Denver, Colorado!” she trilled, slapping the four colorful tickets onto the stark white sheet on Yugi’s bed.

She couldn’t be more proud of herself right now. The looks on her friends’ faces were _priceless!_

She loved Duel Monsters and dueled on occasion, but her dream was to dance on Broadway. Honda enjoyed dueling as much as she did, but he also had another dream. Honda preferred working with his hands. Motorcycles, mopeds, a few motorbikes. Those were Honda’s pride and joy.

But Yugi and Jounouchi? Anzu knew they wanted to be professional Duelists. She also knew that none of them were particularly well off financially and Jounouchi was dying to visit his sister in the United States. Ever since Joey won the prize money from Duelist Kingdom and sent it to his sister’s hospital to pay for Serenity’s eye surgery, he’d been itching to find a way to get there.

Thankfully, they all knew the Kaiba brothers. Kaiba Seto might be a pain in the ass but Anzu had made it her mission to make Seto’s weakness her strength. She managed to track down Mokuba and tell him about Jounouchi’s desire to be with his little sister after her surgery and Mokuba had wavered. All she had to do next was tack on how much she knew Seto would enjoy defeating Jounouchi in Duel Monsters and Mokuba had bolted to go get the tickets and information from his brother.

Score one for Mazaki Anzu!

It bit a little at her conscience to throw Jounouchi under the bus like that to get what she wanted, but only a little bit. Knowing Jounouchi would be thrilled at the chance to compete _and_ see his little sister after so many years apart made the underhandedness well worth it.

“The Mile High City?” Jounouchi cried. He snatched a ticket from the bed and held it up to get a better look at it. Then he made a high pitched squeal and hopped around ecstatic. “Road trip baby! Oh yeah!”

Anzu would never understand some of Joey’s slang. Still, his excitement was infectious.

“Thank you so much, Anzu!” Yugi said, grabbing a ticket and clutching it close to his chest happily.

Honda, Anzu noted, was too busy kissing his ticket to say anything. Weirdos, the lot of them.

“Now all we have to do is buy plane tickets,” Yugi said.

“Actually,” Anzu said, letting the word trail off suggestively, “I’ve got a solution to that as well.” She found herself the proud recipient of three sets of awe filled eyes and resolved to always remember this moment for as long as she lived. “I had a little talk with Kaiba,” no specifics as to which one, let the boys guess, “and he agreed to give us a lift on his _personal_ plane.”

Honda was practically drooling and Jounouchi looked about ready to pee his pants from excitement. Yugi’s mouth had dropped open and his violet eyes were so wide Anzu wondered in passing if she could climb through them. She laughed instead.

“Aren’t I an amazing friend?” she declared, patting her chest proudly.

Three.

Two.

One.

Just as she predicted, Yugi bounced across his bed and wrapped his arms around her waist spouting endless thanks. She’d probably be hearing that for the next month or so. So worth it.

“How the _hell_ did you get grumpy moneybags to let us ride on his plane?” Jounouchi demanded in disbelief.

Anzu mimed zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key. She knew when to keep her secrets. Besides, it wasn’t like she wasn’t going with them. After hearing about all the insanity from the gang’s last misadventure abroad, there was no way Anzu was skipping out on this trip. She wanted to see Kaiba’s mysterious glowing eyes for herself.

* * *

_“Hear me Daniel!”_

Those words would haunt him for a long time. Find the boy. Find his wife’s son by another man. Another Goa’uld. Harcesis. A child of two Goa’uld hosts with the combined genetic memory of both parents. Normally, a Goa’uld’s genetic memory was only passed from the queen symbiote to her offspring. But a harcesis was a human born of two Goa’uld-ed human hosts and contained the genetic memory of both the queen and the sire. All of the secrets of the Goa’uld in one, small child.

And Sha’uri wanted Daniel to find him. His beloved wife. His beloved, _dead_ wife had pleaded with him through the mental connection created by the Goa’uld Amaunet’s ribbon device to find her son. Right before Teal’c fired his staff weapon, killing both Amaunet and, to Daniel’s despair, Shau’ri, Amaunet’s host. It took days for Daniel to finally forgive Teal’c.

Honestly, deep in his heart, he knew what Teal’c did was the right decision. But to lose his wife when he had been _so close_ to her, looking at her, being tortured by the Goa’uld snake inside her, listening to her voice following him long after her death… He still wasn’t sure how Shau’ri managed that.

According to Sam, the ribbon devices had a strong mental component that allowed the host’s consciousness to reach out for short periods and communication subconsciously to the tortured victim. Almost like a subliminal message.

But how had Shau’ri’s father Kasuf known about his then dead daughter’s desire to speak with Daniel? How had he _known_ she had sent Daniel a subliminal message? That, Daniel could not figure out which only added to his distress. For a while there, Daniel hadn’t been sure what was real, what was memory, what was dream, and what was Sha’uri whispering to him.

_“Hear me Daniel!”_

The endless chasm of depressive pain threatened to send him plummeting over the edge once more. But this time, it only threatened. It didn’t knock him over. He was healing.

He had to find the boy. He had to protect his wife’s son. He had to protect him.

Which is why he was standing in the tent where Sha’uri died wishing the last few moments of his wife’s subliminal message would continue to haunt him. Her words, her voice, her face, _her._ She had been his everything. She had been his reason for joining SG-1. All he’d wanted was to find Sha’uri, free her of Amaunet and Apophis, and return to Abydos to live in peace.

Now she was gone. Truly gone. He’d gotten her message. Her voice would no longer haunt his living, waking mind save in true memory. It hurt. Like the bleeding heart wound Teal’c’s staff weapon had dealt. He knew one day he would heal and right now, being here helped. But it would undoubtedly be years before his heart was whole again.

He would honor Sha’uri’s last request and find the child. Even if he had to find a myth to do it. He’d done it before, he could do it again. He _would_.

The academic community had laughed him out of their ranks and disgraced him when he dared to present the theory that the Egyptian pyramids were older than was widely accepted and were landing pads for aliens. There were times when even _he_ questioned his own sanity. But then he would go over the facts he’d found, the writings he’d translated, only to find nothing but evidence to back up his claims. He lost his credibility, his job, his home, his car, everything.

But if he hadn’t continued to believe, if he hadn’t continued to try, then he never would have been found and recruited to work on the Stargate project. He would never have opened the Stargate and traveled to Abydos. He would never have met Sha’uri and helped Jack kill Ra.

Sha’uri would never have been captured and made into a host for Apophis’ queen Amaunet.

No. He couldn’t think like that. That was not his fault. That was Apophis’ fault and Apophis was dead.

So Daniel would live and spite Apophis in every way he could. He may have lost Sha’uri, but her memory and her plea would live on in his heart. As would the last words she whispered to him when Amaunet died from Teal’c’s blast. When she could hardly find the strength to breathe, she still found the strength to whisper those four, precious words.

_“I love you Daniel.”_

“I love you too, Shau’ri.”

His words were soft, lost to the wind on a planet that smelled of death and decay. The tent he stood in, the tent where Sha’uri died was untouched. It stood exactly as it had the day of her death. Even the bodies of Heru’ur’s Horus Jaffa had been left to rot around the tent. A few carrion birds picked at the exposed flesh and Daniel could see signs of other scavengers’ presence.

He should leave. He’d promised Shau’ri he would find her son.

Kheb. The mythical world where the Goa’uld Osiris fled after his brother Setesh’s betrayal. Until Shau’ri told him otherwise, Daniel had always believed Kheb was just that: a myth. It was real. He would find it.

Briefly, Daniel wished Setesh was still alive just so he could wring the planet’s ‘Gate address out of the Goa’uld’s slimy neck. But it was very possible Setesh did not know the ‘Gate address. Osiris knew. But Osiris was as yet an unknown to both Daniel and the SGC. If the ancient System Lord was still alive and out there in the galaxy, Daniel would find him and get the address.

He would save his son.

Perhaps, in the process, he could find Skaara as well. Stargate Command had lost track of Shau’ri’s brother since he, serving as the host to Apophis’s snake of a son Klorel, escaped their mothership’s destruction over a year ago. That was another festering wound for Daniel, but especially for Jack.

The colonel had become attached to Skaara from their very first trip through the Stargate before killing Ra. Jack had been devastated to discover the boy had been taken as a host. Daniel now knew the pain of losing a loved one because the Goa’uld cared nothing for their hosts. Daniel would do everything in his power to keep Jack from suffering the same pain.

Jack had lost his only son when the boy found his hidden service weapon and accidentally shot himself. The despair Daniel remembered his friend suffering from very nearly resulted in Jack setting off the nuclear bomb General West, the then commanding officer of the SGC, had sent through the ‘Gate after them onto Abydos. The general knew of Jack’s precarious mental state and knew the colonel would be trigger happy.

Skaara had brought Jack out of that and together, he and Daniel Ringed the bomb up to Ra’s retreating spaceship and blew it and Ra to smithereens. Jack’s words. Skaara was the son Jack needed. Shau’ri’s son was the driving force Daniel needed.

They would pull off the impossible again. They had to.

* * *

The regular phone in General Hammond’s office rang. He wasn’t expecting a call, but things happened. Picking up the receiver, he answered.

”Hammond.”

 _“Sir?”_ the airman on the other end said. _“You’ve got a call from someone called Neph- Nephthys?”_

Immediately, the general sat up straight. “Patch him through,” he said curtly. There was a subtle click and Hammond took a deep, calming breath before speaking. “You’ve got some serious explaining to do.”

Kaiba snickered. _“Is that so?”_ he said, sounding more amused by the situation than anything else. _“I did promise to give you a way to contact me. Consider this my way of doing just that.”_

“Explain.”

 _“I’ve sent you a package with a communication device in it,”_ Kaiba said. _“It’s small, fits in the palm of your hand, and should reach me even if one of us were in orbit. If that ever happens.”_

Better than expected. However, “I’m assuming this device is of Goa’uld design.”

 _“It is. It’s old, even by Goa’uld standards,”_ Kaiba admitted, _“but I can guarantee it still works. I used it at Setesh’s compound.”_

“To communicate with your so-called First Prime.” It was a guess based on the information Jacob, Selmak, and SG-1 had given him, but Hammond was willing to bet he was right.

 _“Close,”_ Kaiba said. _“Which, incidentally, brings me to the second reason why I’m contacting you.”_

“I’m listening.”

_“I’ll be in Colorado in a month for business and pleasure. If the Tok’ra ever decide to speak with me, I suggest it be during that time.”_

“And if it’s not?” Hammond said. “The Tok’ra don’t answer to me. They also have a bad habit of not returning our calls as quickly as we would like.”

_“They’re Goa’uld. Time moves differently for us.”_

The general considered that statement. He’d never thought about it like that before. For a race who lived for thousands of years, a few months was probably nothing in comparison. But for a race that typically only lived for a century or so, a couple months was a comparatively long time.

“I’ll do what I can to speed up the process,” Hammond said, even though he was fairly certain there wasn’t much he could actually do.

 _“I’m sure,”_ Kaiba replied, sounding just as disbelieving as Hammond felt. _“Remember my terms. I want to meet them on their world.”_

Hammond scoffed. “And I’ll tell you again, I highly doubt that will happen. The Tok’ra don’t even let us through to their base world. It’s much more likely they’ll want to meet at the SGC or somewhere they designate.”

Kaiba hummed. _“Then I come armed.”_

“Within reason,” Hammond said carefully, “I don’t personally see a problem with that although I’m sure the Tok’ra will.”

_“They can deal with it. They may not trust me, but I don’t trust them either. They are young compared to me. Mere children.”_

Which brought up yet another point General Hammond was practically itching to discuss. “Speaking of children,” he said, “Daniel told me about your bird.”

 _“I’m a queen, general,”_ Kaiba said. _“I have to spawn. Resisting the need is unpleasant. But I give you my word, none of my children have ever taken humans as hosts or been implanted in a Jaffa. I would never allow it and now they don’t want to. They find the very idea disgusting.”_

Interesting. “How do you know that?” Hammond demanded.

_“I’m a queen. I made them that way.”_

“How?”

Kaiba huffed a laugh. _“Answer me this, general. These Tok’ra of yours, do they take hosts?”_

“They do.”

_“Willing or no?”_

“Willing. Most of the time.”

 _“Don’t underestimate a Goa’uld’s survival instinct, general,”_ Kaiba said, sounding unusually sharp. _“When faced with imminent death, the desire to survive, no matter the cost, is almost impossible to resist. In some circumstances,”_ he added with the slightest hint of hesitation, _“the pain from a kara kesh can force that instinct to the forefront of a Goa’uld’s mind.”_

That sounded like the voice of experience. “Duly noted,” he said simply.

 _“Good. Back to your Tok’ra,”_ Kaiba continued. _“Other than their resistance to the System Lords, is there anything they have in common? A way of doing things? A way of thinking? Something which is intrinsic to who and what they are and is shared by all of them?”_

Hammond thought carefully. “Several,” he said. “The most notable being their refusal to use a sarcophagus.”

 _“A wise decision,”_ Kaiba said. _“Anything else?”_

Nice try. “Why do you ask?” the general asked in return.

Kaiba hummed. _“The next time you communicate with them, ask them if they are all descended from the same queen.”_

“Why?”

 _“Because if they are, then you know why they all think the same way,”_ Kaiba replied. _“A Goa’uld queen is responsible for continuing the Goa’uld race and passing on the genetic memory of the Goa’uld to their children. But not all memories must be passed on and some memories can be cast in a certain… light, per se. If the queen despises something, then they can choose to pass that dislike on to their children.”_

“Meaning what?” Hammond said.

 _“Meaning,”_ Kaiba said, his voice strangely calm, _“as long as I don’t want my children to view humans as potential hosts, they won’t.”_

But if Kaiba ever changed his mind…

_“I’ll see you in a month, general.”_

“Now wait just a minute!”

No good. The click of a disconnected line followed by a dial tone rang in Hammond’s ear. Reluctantly, he hung up the receiver. Weaving his fingers together, Hammond pressed his mouth against his hands and went over every word Kaiba said during their discussion. Kaiba had been surprisingly forthright about some things and annoyingly vague about others.

But Kaiba had given him something to think about. If the Tok’ra were indeed all descended from the same queen Goa’uld, and a queen had the ability to control and manipulate the genetic memory she passed to her offspring, then that could potentially change the game entirely. One queen was potentially responsible for the entire Tok’ra resistance.

The possibilities of one Goa’uld queen on Earth were endless, not all of them good.

* * *

She stood on the railing of the ship bound for the United States. She knew what she had to do and she was fully prepared to do it, but a part of her was deathly afraid. She loved her brother but he had to be stopped. Marik’s gift had been both a blessing and a curse ever since their mother’s death. Rishid did his best to keep Marik sane, but there was only so much that could be done. To make matter worse, no one noticed Marik’s fall until it was too late and her brother was gone.

Now she was on her own, above ground, sailing to a foreign country to kill her brother. She already knew she would not succeed in freeing him of the snake that had possessed him. She’d _seen_ it. If she could not defeat him, then she would kill him.

Since the return of the Shadow Games, Ishizu had believed her people’s duty to be almost over. Then her mother died, her father went insane, and she lost her brother to a false god from a race she and her people had long thought driven from this planet.

Her visions told her to be present at a certain place at a certain time for a certain person’s arrival. She would be. She was already personally overseeing the shipping, handling, placement, and protection of the artifacts she brought with her from her family’s vaults to the museum in Denver, Colorado. There she would find the person she was looking for.

Her fingers brushed the golden eye emblazoned on her Millennium Tauk. Her necklace had not given her a vision in several days but she wasn’t worried. She was calm. She knew what she must do.

She would find her Pharaoh, the queen who once served him, and her brother. She would. She’d _seen_ it.


	26. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which SG-1 gets some interesting news and Seto gets some potentially lethal news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This is a somewhat shorter chapter than usual because the next chapter(s) are going to be jam packed with stuff. Hope y'all had a great Christmas and look forward to a great New Year!

Daniel took the offered mug of steaming hot coffee and sipped it carefully. Paused. Then sipped it again. Then set it down on the table and _stared_ at the mug in pleasant surprise and suspicious disbelief.

“Is it just me,” he said slowly, “or is the coffee actually…”

“Good?” Sam finished.

Daniel blinked and looked up at his friend in confusion. “Yes.”

“I was just about to ask the same thing,” she said, a similar expression of surprise on her face.

“It is indeed much better than before,” Teal’c declared, taking another appreciative sip of his coffee.

“Don’t look at me,” Jack said, dropping into his seat with his own coffee and leaning over it protectively. “I didn’t do anything to it and _no,_ I’m not sharing either.”

This was unreal. Just to make sure his coffee didn’t suddenly go back to being barely palatable when he wasn’t looking, Daniel took another drink and swallowed. Nope, still good. He glanced at the head of the conference table where General Hammond was sitting and noticed the dry humor on the older man’s face.

“Sir?” Daniel asked hesitantly. “Did you change brands or something?”

Hammond looked at Daniel, sighed, and shook his head. “Not by choice, no,” he said wearily. “But yes.”

“Please tell me this won’t come out of our paychecks, general,” Jack said. “Because while I do love my vices, I love my paycheck more.” He shrugged. “Usually.”

The general chuckled. “On the contrary,” he said easily. “It was a donation of sorts. Don’t count on it to last. The base has been going through it faster than I would’ve thought possible.”

“Uh, yeah,” Jack drawled. “It’s good. How often do we get coffee this good down here?”

“Not often,” Teal’c said simply.

Jack waved at the Jaffa in agreement. “My point.”

“Who donated it, sir?” Sam asked, taking another sip.

Hammond sighed and Daniel wasn’t sure he wanted to know anymore.

“Kaiba sent it.”

Huh. Okay, that wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Unfortunately, no one else seemed to take it as well as Daniel did. Sam abruptly swallowed, set her mug down, and stared at the general dumbstruck. Teal’c hesitated but took another sip anyway. Jack… Jack thumped his mug on the table and stared at General Hammond with his mouth slightly open in astonishment.

“He also passed this along,” Hammond continued.

He lifted his hands to reveal a small metallic device shaped like a chicken egg with one side curved outwards and the other smooth and flat. The metal was a dull silvery color and what looked like a violet resin filled the empty spaces between the metal design on the curved surface. The general pushed the small device across the table for SG-1 to have a better look at it.

“What is it?” Jack asked, eyeing the device in distrust before giving in and drinking more of his coffee.

“Apparently, it’s a communication device,” Hammond said.

“It is indeed,” Teal’c said, sounding almost impressed. He reached out and pulled the device towards him for a closer examination. “It is an ancient Goa’uld design that is no longer in common use.”

“I was hoping you would recognize the symbol on it,” Hammond said, studying the Jaffa with interest. “It’s not a Goa’uld symbol I’m familiar with.”

“That is because the System Lord this symbol belongs to was banished many thousands of years ago,” Teal’c said, running a thumb over the design before handing it to Daniel. “It is the winged hawk of Isis.”

Isis. The Egyptian mother goddess. Traditionally Isis was considered the mother of Horus or Heru’ur in Egyptian mythology, although Daniel and the SGC had learned that wasn’t true in reality. The Goa’uld Heru’ur’s parents were Ra and Hathor. Still, if Kaiba had a communication device with the symbol of Isis on it, then that meant there was perhaps some truth behind the relationship between Nephthys and Isis. They already knew of Kaiba’s connection to Heru’ur.

The bird on the communicator was clearly a hawk. The bird of prey held its detailed wings outspread and arching upwards over its head like a halo. A small raised ankh with red resin in the loop was etched on the bird’s chest. Actually, come to think of it, this particular hawk looked awfully familiar.

“It’s a kite,” he muttered.

“Daniel?”

Hm? Oh, Jack was looking at him. “The bird,” Daniel said, holding up the device so his friend could see the design. “It’s a kite.”

And Jack clearly didn’t understand. Right. “A kite is a type of hawk,” Daniel explained. “The bird Kaiba brought with him last time he was here was a kite.”

”The bird with Kaiba’s,” Jack pointed to his head, “kid in it, you mean?”

“That is most interesting,” Teal’c said, arching an eyebrow thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” Daniel mumbled, staring down at the communicator. “So, how’s it work?”

“Press the ankh and speak into it,” the general said. “It’s connected to an identical device in Kaiba’s possession. He said it should reach him as long as both devices were in range.”

“A communicator of this size should only be capable of reaching a matching device as long as those in possession of them are on or in orbit around the same planet,” Teal’c said. “These devices were largely abandoned by the majority of the System Lords once the visual communicators were adopted as the main form of distance communication.”

“Makes sense,” Sam said, nodding. Sitting up and taking another drink of her coffee, she looked at the general. “So I’m guessing we’re going to be playing middle-man between Kaiba and the Tok’ra soon.”

General Hammond nodded. “I received a reply from the Tok’ra late last night,” he said. “Unsurprisingly, they refused to allow an as-yet unknown Goa’uld on their base. But they will be sending a delegation to the SGC to conduct negotiations with Nephthys. I’ve passed this information on to Kaiba and…” He gestured helplessly.

“Let me guess,” Jack drawled. “He wasn’t too pleased with that.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Hammond said. “He’ll come anyway, but on the condition he’s allowed to be armed.”

“The Tok’ra aren’t going to be too happy about that,” Sam said.

“Which is why I offered an alternative,” Hammond said. He leaned forward so his arms rested on the table and sighed. “I’ve given him permission to bring his First Prime on base instead.”

Daniel blinked in surprise and even Teal’c seemed somewhat taken aback.

“I was under the impression Kaiba did not have a First Prime,” the Jaffa said.

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed. “I thought we decided that was a bluff to throw off Setesh.”

“And I still think it is,” Hammond said, nodding. “But if there is someone else out there who knows what Kaiba really is and was willing to help him in Setesh’s compound, then I want to know who it is and determine if they’re an ally or a potential threat.”

“Well aren’t you sneaky, sir,” Jack said, a sly grin working its way onto his face.

“It’s better than weapons, I guess,” Sam said after some consideration. “I think we can safely assume Kaiba’s First Prime is human and not a Jaffa.”

Teal’c nodded.

“Then that might make it a bit easier to handle,” she continued. “I doubt the Tok’ra will feel too threatened by another human. With very few exceptions, the people on this base are the only ones familiar with the Stargate and I doubt Kaiba’s ever told his First Prime more than he absolutely had to. That could give us an advantage.”

“My thoughts exactly,” the general said. “The meeting is scheduled to take place a week from now. And this time,” he looked at each of them seriously, “I want all of you glued to the security cameras. I want to track Kaiba’s movements through the mountain. If we have a flaw in our security that Kaiba has taken advantage of, I need to know what it is so it can be fixed. The last thing we need is an enemy incursion from what we assume to be friendly territory.”

“Yes sir,” Jack said.

Daniel grimanced and drank his coffee in silence. Oh boy.

* * *

 

Seto had a headache. He’d only gotten a precious couple hours of decent sleep on the flight from Japan to Denver because his unexpected flightmates did not know the meaning of the phrase ‘shut the hell up.’ That wasn’t entirely fair. Yugi at least tried to keep his voice down and attempted to keep his friends quiet too, but it hadn’t done much. Mokuba owed Seto big time for this.

Whatever Anzu did to convince Mokuba to trick his own big brother into allowing Yugi and his ridiculous gang of dorks onto his private jet must’ve been good. Reluctantly, Seto respected the girl for being so sneaky and manipulative. He didn’t know she had something like that in her. He would remember for the future.

At least he was finally in his hotel room. The made bed was calling his name but Seto refused to allow himself to give in until he was finished unpacking and settling in. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to fully relax. Besides, Mokuba was super excited about being in another country and his energy was infectious.

The Kaiba brothers would be meeting with the proper city authorities tomorrow morning to finish finalizing the limitations, rules, and regulations for the first Battle City tournament. Until then, Seto intended to rest and acclimate to the change in time zones. When he could snag the opportunity, Seto planned to inform Yugi and his friends of his other purpose for coming here as well. He was already fairly certain who would be the best choice to take with him as his First Prime candidate, though he knew it wouldn’t be easy to convince the mutt.

But that was a headache for another day. Right now, Seto just wanted to open the balcony doors to let in the night air, unpack, and sleep.

Naturally, that was when the hotel room phone rang. Startled, Seto paused holding the sliding balcony door open and watched his little brother pick up the phone. Maybe it was just an offer of room service.

His luck was never that good.

“Nii-sama,” Mokuba called, turning to Seto in confusion. “Were you expecting a call?”

Seto frowned. “No,” he replied curtly. “Give me the phone.”

Obediently, Mokuba handed Seto the phone when he approached and sat on the bed gazing up at his big brother expectantly. Seto mussed his little brother’s hair and lifted the receiver to his ear.

“Who is this?” he demanded.

 _“Seto,”_ a woman’s voice said. _“I hope you’re settling into your room.”_

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Seto snapped. “You have one more chance before I hang up.”

 _“My apologies,”_ the woman said. She had an Egyptian accent with hints of some older influences tangled in the inflections. _“My name is Ishizu Ishtar and I have a proposition for you.”_

“Not interested,” Seto said, frowning. “Call again and I’ll report you.”

_“I think a queen such as yourself would be interested in my offer.”_

For a good five seconds, Seto couldn’t breathe. How? He’d been so careful. _No one_ knew who and what he was except for the people of the SGC and Seto knew they wouldn’t dare betray his identity. Doing so would mean revealing too much classified information regarding their own program. So then how…?

 _“You need not fear,”_ the woman, Ishizu, said calmly. _“Your secret is safe with me. However, I doubt it will remain so for much longer if things are left to continue as they are.”_

“Explain,” he hissed, ignoring the way Mokuba was suddenly looking up at him with wide, grey eyes filled with worry.

 _“This is not a conversation I think you would feel safe having over the phone,”_ Ishizu said. _“I’m opening a new Ancient Egypt exhibit at the Denver Museum of Natural History which will only be open to the public for this month. There are some things here I believe you should see. Come this Friday evening. That will give you time to finish sorting things out after your meeting with the city officials tomorrow morning and those visiting through the Chappa’ai the day after that.”_

Chappa’ai. Seto nearly dropped the phone in shock. Instinctively, his Shadows surged towards him, seeking out a threat but finding none in his vicinity. His senses were twitching, frantically trying to grasp what he was hearing and pair it with what he knew to be true. But for the life of him, he couldn’t escape the sheer horror of discovering someone who _knew._

No. There was no way. Seto made sure anything linking him to ancient Egypt was well and truly buried deep beneath the sands. The descendants of High Priestess Isis were charged with watching over the sacred grounds. They would never compromise the security of their charges. How could this Ishizu woman know of such things?

Then again, the Millennium Puzzle had been discovered, brought to Japan, and solved by a high school student and the Chappa’ai had been unearthed and taken to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex and was once again in active use.

Seto could somewhat understand the Tomb Keepers choosing to allow the Chappa’ai to be unearthed since it was deemed to be essentially useless without its accompanying dialing device. Unfortunately, they had all miscalculated and underestimated the ingenuity of curious humans. The Stargate Command personnel had singlehandedly designed their own dialing device using their own technology and were currently using the Chappa’ai regularly to fight the System Lords with a notable measure of success.

But Seto never could understand how the Tomb Keepers missed the Millennium Puzzle being discovered _inside_ the Pharaoh’s personal tomb. He’d dismissed that thought once he knew the Puzzle had been solved by the Pharaoh’s reincarnation. The true Gods had a strange way of getting what they wanted. But now Seto was wondering if he’d been too quick to dismiss that doubt.

If something as powerful and specifically under the Tomb Keepers’ watch as the Millennium Puzzle could disappear without the descendants of Isis being aware of it and attempting to stop it, then it was entirely possible they had missed other things.

Chappa’ai.

That was a Goa’uld word. Obelisk sustain him. Where had Ishizu learned it? If she too was a Goa’uld-

 _“Oh, and one more thing,”_ the woman said, her calm voice intruding on Seto’s fears. _“I believe Jounouchi Katsuya is the best choice for First Prime. The young Pharaoh will be well protected in his friend’s absence. Good evening.”_

The click and dial tone that followed sounded too much like the final nail in the proverbial coffin. How by Obelisk’s holy balance had that bitch of a woman _known_ about that? Was she clairvoyant perhaps? If so, her ability was much stronger than that Mazaki girl’s.

Seto was frustrated to note how badly his hand was shaking as he replaced the receiver in its place. His heart was pounding in his chest and his hands felt clammy.

“Nii-sama?”

Seto deliberately curled his fingers into a fist to stave off his nervous shaking. Think. He had to think. How could this Ishtar woman know so much about things she _shouldn’t?_ Knowing Seto was a Goa’uld was bad enough, knowing he was a queen was particularly problematic. If Ishizu had enough force and backing behind her, much like Pegasus Crawford had, then Seto might have some difficulty keeping her at a safe distance.

The fact the woman also not only knew the Pharaoh had been reincarnated but that the Pharaoh was _here_ with Seto was terrifying. Seto had sworn to protect his best friend, no matter the cost. In times long past, a show of powerful magic would typically scare off anyone stupid enough to challenge him. But these days, that wouldn’t be the best approach.

“Nii-sama?”

Unless Ishizu had a Millennium Item.

Dear Ra. What if she _did_ have a Millennium Item?

That would change things _drastically._ One Millennium Item on its own and in the hands of its preferred wielder was a weapon capable of wreaking chaos the likes of which Seto had no desire to be involved in. Several Items in the same vicinity, working towards a collective goal or opposing goals, was a ticking time bomb. All of the Items together were a weapon of mass destruction with near incomprehensible power.

Seto would know. He’d witnessed what they were capable of when wielded in tandem. Just the _thought_ of witnessing something like that again scared him to death. He could feel his legs trembling with the desire to run, fight, or just _give way._

“Nii-sama!”

Arms suddenly latched onto his neck and a weight flung itself onto his lap, startling him from his dark thoughts. He blinked back to the present and was surprised to see his little brother sprawled on his lap clinging to him. Lap? Since when had he fallen to his knees?

Damn it. He’d let his self-control slip and worried Mokuba. That was unacceptable. Taking a deep, calming breath, he wrapped his own arms around Mokuba and rested his chin on his little brother’s shoulder.

If Ishizu wanted him to meet her in person, then he would. Once he was close enough, he would know for certain if she had a symbiote. That would answer one of his questions. He would also have to keep a close eye on her person for any sign of an Item. Either way, if her intentions were even remotely ill towards Seto, Mokuba, or the Pharaoh, he would kill her without remorse. Better to end a threat before it had the chance to blossom into something more.

Well, there went any chance of him getting a good night’s sleep tonight.


	27. Duality of Existence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seto finally meets the Tok'ra, comes to a realization he never considered before, and the others begin to have an idea of how messed up Seto's existence actually is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Sorry for the delay. Job hunting while working full time at a job and finding a life balance in there is not easy.
> 
> Goa'uld Translations:  
>  _*ha'taaka_ ~ A derogatory term for someone vile, worse than a traitor

"Incoming wormhole,” Harrimon’s voice filtered up from the control room below.

Seto gazed fixedly through the conference room at the glowing chevrons on the spinning Chappa’ai below. Something in his reflection caught the light and Seto immediately stilled his hands, releasing the Duel Monsters card locket and letting it dangle freely from his neck. He couldn’t allow his self-control to slip, especially not in front of the Tok’ra.

“Nervous?”

Dr. Jackson’s voice was quiet and nonjudgmental as the archaeologist approached the windows to stand by Seto’s side. One sharp glare at Dr. Jackson’s reflection successfully halted that train of questioning. Seto was well aware of his slip. He didn’t want to talk about it.

Nervous? Osiris’s thunderous gullet, Seto was terrified. Not about the impending negotiation with the Tok’ra though. A negotiation was a negotiation was a negotiation. He’d conducted, participated, and presided over too many to be surprised or intimidated by them anymore. From his experience, human businessmen could give a Goa’uld System Lord a run for their money when it came to scheming and sucking up to potential allies and enemies alike. The Tok’ra, despite being against the System Lords, were still Goa’uld. Seto was prepared to deal with them.

No. It was the mysterious Ishtar woman. _She_ was the root cause of all of Seto’s anxiety at the moment. What little he’d been able to find on her was literally that, little. It was pathetic and nipped at his pride. He was reluctantly impressed by Ishtar’s ability to conceal her existence from his far-reaching resources. It was the strangest thing. If Seto didn’t know better, he would’ve guessed the woman had just popped up from a hole in the ground.

Hell, _did_ he know better?

“Is this the first time you’ve seen the Stargate open in…” Dr. Jackson shrugged in place of a time and Seto couldn’t help but sigh in response.

“We buried the Cha-” No. That wasn’t the word these people used. Might as well start adapting, however much it irked him to do so. At least for now. “-the _Stargate._ We _buried_ it, Dr. Jackson. We did so deliberately. We never intended for it to be used ever again.”

Dr. Jackson’s curious eyes lifted from the very active Chappa'ai to Seto’s profile a second before he spoke. “Did you really think you’d never see it again?” he asked softly.

Seto snorted derisively and shot the linguist a wry look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I’m very aware of your species’ incredible capacity for imagination, innovation, and insatiable curiosity. I never doubted for a second that I would see it again.” His gaze returned almost uncontrollably to the Chappa’ai. “I just always thought it would be in a museum or as a curiosity in some billionaire’s collection. Not in a military base let alone in active use.”

“Why not?” the archaeologist asked with a thoughtful frown.

Seto felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards in sardonic amusement. The silence hung heavy as the sixth chevron locked in place and the spinning device moved to the final chevron, the point of origin. Seto liked Dr. Jackson, but there were times when the man reminded him too much of Yugi and the dueling midget’s endless patience and understanding.

“Tell me, Dr. Jackson,” Seto said as the final chevron locked in place and the blue-white, watery event horizon fwooshed outwards before settling in its stable, rippling pool within the Chappa’ai’s containing ring. “Did you ever wonder why the S-Stargate was buried without its accompanying dialing device?”

He felt more than saw Dr. Jackson’s mind begin to race even as the man’s eyes narrowed at Seto’s reflection. So the thought had crossed his mind, perhaps even more than once. But, like a good problem solver, Dr. Jackson’s people had worked around the problem when they realized there was nothing they could do the fix it.  

“It did,” Dr. Jackson confirmed. “But we built our own when we couldn’t find it which… rendered that question moot.” He hesitated. “Although, I’m beginning to think you weren’t expecting that to happen.”

“I wasn’t,” Seto confirmed quietly, watching as two men, one elderly and one young, stepped through the rippling event horizon and onto the metal ramp of the ‘Gate Room. “We destroyed it, Dr. Jackson. The few of us who survived the rebellion. We ripped the dialing device apart so thoroughly there was nothing left. The _Chappa’ai,”_ he emphasized the Goa’uld word, “was proof of the System Lord’s control of Tau’ri. With the Asgard unreachable and our own forces decimated despite our victory, we chose to ensure that, should the Chappa’ai ever be unearthed, the Goa’uld would never make use of it again.”

One of the two men on the metal ramp below looked up at the window just as the Chappa’ai shut down. Seto lifted his chin disdainfully and flashed his eyes at the man. He smirked at the mild curiosity in the Tok’ra’s eyes before deliberately turning on his heel and moving away from the window to sit at the conference table. Just in time for an overly excited puppy to come bounding up the steps from the control room.

 _“Did you see that?”_ Jounouchi announced boldly in rapid Japanese. _“That was freaking awesome! That-”_ he gestured with his hands and made a ‘fwoosh’ sound effect with his mouth, _“thing? Blew my mind.”_

 _“Implying you had a mind to begin with,”_ Seto drawled, leaning back in the comfortable chair and reaching for the mug of steaming coffee on the table.

 _“Dude, really?”_ the Pharaoh’s friend snapped. “Fuck you, moneybags.”

Seto snorted, hiding his smirk behind his mug. The blonde boy rolled his eyes and rubbed his hands together.

 _“Yugi’s never going to believe this,”_ Jounouchi continued. _“Hell, I bet even Honda and Anzu won’t believe me.”_

Seto hummed noncommittally and sipped his coffee, quietly amused by the discombobulated expression on Dr. Jackson’s face. Obviously, the archaeologist was having trouble matching the enthusiastic puppy with the proud position of First Prime. Not that Seto blamed him in the least. In appearance alone, Jounouchi would never pass for a First Prime. In practice…

There weren’t many people Seto could think of who could go through everything Jounouchi had and maintain that blind loyalty, ridiculous optimism, and enthusiasm for life. Jounouchi had faced down a soul-stealing lunatic with a Millennium Item, gun-wielding murderers, a theme park designed to kill courtesy of Seto himself, and who knew what else. The boy was more than he appeared. If Dr. Jackson had any doubts, then Seto looked forward to the fallout.

“Sit down, Wheeler,” Seto said in English, nodding to the chair by his right hand. “They’ll be here shortly.”

To his credit, Jounouchi didn’t argue to command. The glare he shot Seto didn’t count. The blonde just grumbled as he plopped unceremoniously into the offered chair and dug a yo-yo out of his pocket to fiddle with. Dr. Jackson chose to stay by the window and split his attention between the Tok’ra below and Seto and Seto’s chosen First Prime.

* * *

Daniel really didn’t know what to make of Kaiba’s First Prime. When he and the rest of SG-1 had made bets on the identity of the First Prime from the people in the photograph, he and Jack chose the brunette boy. Sam and Teal’c had gone with the blonde. Daniel and Jack owed their friends a box of donuts each for that.

That aside, Daniel had been sure whoever Kaiba chose for a First Prime would be, well, more mature. This Wheeler person, if that really was the blonde boy’s name, had moments of maturity that were mostly drowned out by his enthusiastic goofiness. Honestly, Wheeler reminded Daniel of Jack on a sugar high.

Was that a yo-yo?

“Daniel?”

“Up here,” he called just as Jack’s head appeared on the stairway followed closely by Sam, Teal’c, Jacob, Martouf, and General Hammond. “Jacob,” he said, holding out his hand for the older man to shake. “Glad you could come.”

“And miss this?” Jacob shook his head wide-eyed. “Not for the world.”

Daniel glanced at Kaiba who was studiously ignoring all of them and Wheeler who seemed to be intensely focused on convincing his yo-yo to do a trick. Daniel met his friends’ eyes significantly. Sam gave him a look that said a thousand words and Daniel could just nod in agreement. Yeah. This was definitely going to be interesting.

Sam pulled out a seat for her father across from Wheeler at the same time Martouf sat down across from Kaiba. Then Sam took her seat between Martouf and General Hammond leaving Jack to take the seat on Jacob’s other side. Daniel moved around the table to sit between the general and Kaiba leaving Teal’c to sit between Wheeler and Jack.

“I want to start by saying violence and threats won’t be tolerated here,” General Hammond said, looking at both the Tok’ra and Kaiba. “We’ll start with introductions then go from there. Jacob?”

“Thank you, George.” Jacob glanced at his daughter briefly before rested his forearms on the conference table and speaking. “I’m General Jacob Carter, United States Air Force” he said, adding with a wry grin, “retired. I’m currently the Earth representative attached to the Tok’ra with my symbiote Selmak.”

Kaiba flinched. It was fast, almost too fast. If Daniel hadn’t been looking at Kaiba, hadn’t seen him react similarly last time Kaiba had been here, Daniel would have missed it entirely. But that was definitely a flinch and Kaiba’s eyes were definitely infinitesimally wider.

“This is Martouf,” Jacob continued, gesturing to the lean, younger man to his left, “and his symbiote Lantash.”

Again, Kaiba’s eyes widened as he turned to Martouf. There was shock but also a bit of fear in Kaiba’s blue eyes. The younger Tok’ra nodded his sandy haired head and his friendly blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled politely.

“I’m assuming you’re Nephthys?” he said, nodding to Kaiba.

“I did wear that name for a time,” Kaiba replied easily, “but I’ve had no true attachment to it for thousands of years.”

“Then what should we call you?” Jacob asked, clasping his hands.

“I’ve used the name Set most of my life in some way, shape, or form,” Kaiba said. “But since I don’t know you, you may call me Kaiba.”

“Kaiba it is then,” Jacob said, nodding in acknowledgement. “And this,” he turned to Wheeler, “must be your First Prime.”

“Must he be?” Kaiba drawled, earning himself a burning glare from Wheeler of all people.

“Whatever moneybags. The name’s Wheeler,” the blonde said, rolling his eyes and jutting out his chin at Jacob.  

Jacob looked closely at Wheeler for a moment before speaking. “I remember you. You were one of the cultists in the tunnels.”

Wheeler frowned, then shrugged and went back to playing with his yo-yo. “Since Gray Hair over here,” he said, pointing his thumb at Jack, “yanked my hood off I figured you already knew what that creepy Setesh guy looked like. So you weren’t looking for me,” he said in a voice that oddly sounded like he was from New York and not Japan.

“We weren’t,” Jacob agreed thoughtfully. He glanced at Kaiba. “But you knew we were looking for him.”

Again, Wheeler just shrugged and flipped his yo-yo up so it spun on top of his hand. “Yeah well, considering this guy,” he jerked his head towards Kaiba, “never tried to enslave me, I figured he was the better guy.”

“Is that so?” Jacob chuckled. He looked back to Kaiba. “It was me and Teal’c you spoke to through my daughter’s earpiece in Set’s compound-”

“Setesh,” Kaiba said sharply.

Jacob blinked, taken aback by Kaiba’s unexpectedly sharp tone.

“Setesh’s compound,” Kaiba said, any hint of shock and fear in his eyes erased by annoyance and aloof disdain. “I dislike hearing my name attached to that ha’taaka.”

Both Jacob and Martouf flinched in surprise and Daniel wondered what the word meant to elicit such a reaction. Obviously, it was an insult but what- Huh. Even Teal’c seemed caught off guard by that word. Okay. So definitely a bad word. Good to know.

“Setesh then,” Jacob allowed, eyeing Kaiba with wary interest. “I wanted to thank you for the warning. Most people wouldn’t do that.”

“She was a problem for Setesh,” Kaiba said, a smirk working its way to his face, “therefore, she was useful to me.” Kaiba turned to Sam and tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Besides,” he continued, his blue gaze returning to Jacob, "we had the same goal. Setesh dead. Hindering her would have been hindering me.”

Jacob considered Kaiba for a moment before lowering his head. When he looked up once more, Daniel focused all of his attention on Kaiba.

“I am Selmak,” the Tok’ra said.

This time Daniel couldn’t have missed it if he’d tried. Kaiba’s eyes widened and his expression openly displayed shock. Next to him, Wheeler had stopped fiddling with his yo-yo and was staring at Jacob dumbstruck. Daniel was confused. Why were they both so surprised by this?

Suddenly, Kaiba leaned forward in his chair, his gaze fixed on Selmak.

“Is something wrong?” Lantash asked curiously through his host Martouf’s mouth, drawing Kaiba’s stunned gaze.

For several seconds, no one spoke. Then Kaiba leaned back, seemingly trying to process something he hadn’t expected to see. What had caught him off-

“You’re alive?” Kaiba whispered, his eyes flickering between Lantash and Selmak.

Lantash hesitated. “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said. “How would we be here if we were not alive?”

Kaiba’s eyes locked on Lantash, studying him closely. “Which of you is alive and which is dead?” he demanded.

Lantash glanced at Selmak, clearly puzzled. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Kaiba clicked his tongue in mounting annoyance. “My host is dead,” he said without preamble. “Only I survived. Now, which of you is alive and which is dead?”

Oh. Oh! Wait. That didn’t-

“Your host isn’t dead,” Lantash said, frowning in concern.

“He is.”

Lantash shook his head slowly. “No, he is not. If he were, then you would be dead as well.”

That did not sit well with Kaiba. The businessman sat back and flashed his eyes.

“You call me a liar,” he said in a calm voice that raised goosebumps on Daniel’s arms.

“So let me get this straight,” Wheeler said suddenly, his carelessly casual voice cutting through the tension. “How many people are in your head right now?” he demanded, pointing to Lantash.

“Two,” Lantash replied readily. “Martouf is here as well. Would you like to speak to him?”

Kaiba twitched a split second before he shot a poisonous glare at Wheeler who tapped his nose knowingly.

“Yeah, I would,” Wheeler said, flicking his yo-yo so it rolled back and forth between his hands on the conference table.

When Lantash nodded in acquiescence, the motion was smooth and gentle. When he lifted his head, it was a bit faster and the gleam in those blue eyes was distinctly different from before.

“I am Martouf,” the man said, offering a friendly, if shy smile. “I apologize for any confusion but I’m afraid I too am curious as to what you mean. Why would one of us be dead?”

Kaiba narrowed his eyes and considered his words before replying. “When a Goa’uld takes a host, only one mind can control the body. The dominant mind survives while the other dies. That’s the way it is.”

Daniel thought about that. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t wrong. Only one mind could be in control of the body at a given time and, in the case of the Goa’uld System Lords, the host might as well be dead in every way that mattered. In most cases, the host had been enslaved by the Goa’uld for so long that there was no sanity left. There was also the influence of the sarcophagus on the mind. Even if the host survived with a sane mind, it would’ve been compromised by the addiction to the sarcophagus.

“That is not the case,” Martouf said gently. “When Lantash blended with me, I retained my conscious mind and full rights to my body and personal thoughts. I am still very much my own self.” He smiled. “I just share my body with Lantash when he wishes it. He does not restrict my thoughts, words, or actions. I am in complete control of myself right now.”

Kaiba looked thunderstruck. He opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly shut his mouth and whipped around to stare at Wheeler. The blonde boy met Kaiba’s gaze and lifted his eyebrows significantly in a silent reply to an unspoken question. Then Wheeler smirked and Kaiba hissed.

“How?” he snapped, returning his attention to the two Tok’ra. “How did you not kill each other?”

Martouf huffed a soft laugh. “Because if we did, then we would both die. It’s both or none.” His eyes crinkled in confusion. “I am curious. What made you think one of us has to die? Are we not speaking to the host now?”

Kaiba leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs. “You aren’t,” he said simply. “I am not suppressing anyone. Doing so would imply there is another mind present. There is not. I am the only occupant of this body. I have been alone since I possessed him 5,000 years ago.” He tilted his head. “There have been no thoughts, no emotions, nothing in this mind except my own.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Selmak said dryly.

“Again, you call me a liar,” Kaiba said in an even voice.

“Well,” Sam said suddenly, “look at it this way. If one mind had to die when a symbiote blended with a host, then why am I alive?”

“You may be alive,” Kaiba said, his glacial blue gaze sliding to her, “and yet the symbiote who took you is not.”

Sam sat back in genuine surprise. “You think I killed Jolinar?” she asked.

“Is that not what happened?”

Huh. Daniel could see where Kaiba was coming from there.

“The System Lords claim full control of their hosts from the moment they are implanted,” Teal’c said calmly, drawing their gazes. “The sharing of mind and body demonstrated by the Tok’ra is unheard of. Is it not possible that one brought up under such beliefs, and not receiving any evidence challenging such belief, not continue to believe what they hear and witness to be true?”

“A bias, you mean?” Daniel said, already nodding. “No, you’re right, Teal’c. That makes sense. You’ve never met anyone like the Tok’ra before," he said, looking at Kaiba, "and I bet Setesh, Heru’ur, and the other System Lords you lived with never shared their hosts.”

“Because the host was dead,” Kaiba said, doubt worming its way into his words.

“Declared dead and _actually_ dead are two different things,” Daniel said. “But if you're telling the truth, and there’s no reason to believe you aren’t,” he added quickly when Kaiba shot a particularly burning glare, “then you had no reason to doubt that absolute control. Which leads us to the question.” He adjusted his position, not liking the way both Kaiba and Wheeler were looking at him. “If the host doesn’t die upon implantation or,” he gestured to the Tok’ra, “blending, then why haven’t you had to suppress another mind?”

Kaiba blinked, then dropped his gaze.

“If I may ask,” Martouf said in the sudden heavy silence. “How old were you when you were blended?”

Kaiba hesitated. “Me or my host?”

“Both.”

Oh, Daniel did not like that look. Kaiba pressed his lips together in a thin line that could almost be a grimace. Then he sighed, leaned back, and rested both arms on the armrests of his chair almost like a System Lord in a throne.

“I was never incubated in a Jaffa. After being separated from my spawning queen, Setesh had me kept in a sensory deprivation tank,” he said. “I don’t know exactly how old I was when I was implanted, but I wasn’t mature yet. Thankfully, my host was barely over a year old so his mind was hardly equipped to fight my possession. On the other hand, I could barely hold him after possessing him. It took a good year for me to figure out how to control him completely. But I have never felt the presence of another mind after the initial resistance.”

A year old. Seto was implanted in a child. A _baby._ Just a few precious months older than Shau’ri’s baby. _His_ baby. Daniel’s baby. No wonder Seto thought one mind had to die for the other to survive. It was literally all he knew.


	28. Circumstances of Existence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jacob tries to understand the circumstances and gets more than he was ready for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** We start to get a better picture of the past. Good thing to, because after this, Seto's getting _out._ He's used up his word limit for the day.

“You took a _baby_ as a _host?”_ Jack cried in offended fury.

“I took the host that was presented to me at the time,” Kaiba replied calmly, his sharp blue eyes meeting Jack’s evenly. “It was either that or die.”

“You could have chosen someone else,” Jack snarled. _“Anyone_ else.”

 _“No!_ I couldn’t,” Kaiba snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “I could barely comprehend anything beyond my first instinct to survive let alone make a decision as complicated as choosing a potential host.”

“Not my problem.”

“No,” Kaiba said, deliberately looking away from the colonel and speaking in an even and controlled tone. “It was mine. It should _never_ have been mine, but reality is hardly fair. Setesh took away any chance I may have had to choose a host by forcefully implanting me in an unfamiliar, immature human. I didn’t choose this, nor was I pleased with it at the time. However,” his gaze flickered back to O’Neill, “I did choose to take advantage of the circumstances I found myself in rather than wallow in misery and disappointment.”

Jacob went over Kaiba’s words another time in his head. It still made no sense. It wasn’t uncommon for immature symbiotes to be kept in tanks if there were no Jaffa in need of a new symbiote readily available. It was the best way to maintain control of and limit the potential influences on the young symbiotes. It was also a way to protect the vulnerable symbiotes while they were too young to protect themselves from threats effectively.

It also wasn’t unheard of for the immature symbiotes of dead Jaffa to escape their pouch and take the first available host in the vicinity. It was a natural survival instinct. Escape and survive or remain in the dead Jaffa’s body and die.

But to deliberately implant an immature symbiote that hadn’t been exposed to a Jaffa and therefore had a smaller chance of a successful blending into a host? That was not common practice at all. For a _queen_ to be subjected to something as brutal as that was surprising and, judging from the horror emanating from Selmak’s mental presence, downright offensive.

To make matters worse, the host had been an infant. Jacob remembered the birth of his daughter, Sam. She’d been so small and precious. He’d been terrified of holding her because what if he squeezed too hard and hurt her? For a child of that age to be implanted with a Goa’uld, an _immature_ Goa’uld… It was horrific.

Both Jacob and Selmak were of one mind on this. Selmak’s 2,000 years of memories gave Jacob an idea of how things _should_ be from the early days of the newly spawned Tok’ra. There were even a few memories of how things were with the System Lords’ implantation rituals. It was considered a sacred thing when a new System Lord or a queen was implanted.

The young, _mature_ symbiote was given the chance to choose a host. The implantation was delicate and required much care on the part of the Goa’uld and Jaffa overseeing the ritual. If something should go wrong, then death was a very real possibility for both the symbiote and the host.

Queen symbiotes were a bit trickier. They were feistier than the typical drone Goa’uld. They were also larger and required more time to integrate with the host’s body and mind. On the other hand, a queen’s hold on a host was also less permanent than a typical drone’s. Queens had to spawn, after all.

Some queens, like Hathor, chose to spawn while remaining in their hosts. Others chose to temporarily leave their hosts to spawn. If the queen chose the latter, then they were constantly cared for and their host restrained and kept under control, usually by means of sedation, until the queen returned. It required absolute trust between the queen and those present which were usually the queen’s consort, the First Prime, and a select few lo’tar.

Emergency blendings, such as what Jolinar was forced to do with Sam, were notoriously dangerous for both the host and symbiote. If either one resisted too hard or the blending was rejected for medical reasons by either party, it could easily spell death for both involved. It also limited the amount of time for the symbiote to familiarize itself with its host and solidify the blended bond.

Then there was the matter of the host itself. The part of Jacob that was Human and bound to his Earth-based morals and ethics screamed at the abuse of an infant. What Goa’uld in their right mind would deliberately implant an infant? Lack of maturity and feasibility aside, an infant was useless. There was no viable reason to do it except torture. And that was _if_ the symbiote and host survived the blending in the first place. With such an immature host, those chances were incredibly slim.

 _:At ease, Jacob,:_ Selmak’s mental voice soothed. The lingering horror was still audible in the silent words, but there was also a burning desire to _know._ Who did this? Why? To what end?

Jacob wanted to know to. But he couldn’t find the words to express himself amidst his horror and anger and disgust. So he ceded control to Selmak.

“Forgive our silence,” Selmak said with Jacob’s mouth, watching as Kaiba met their gaze warily. “But you must understand, what you have just described to us is…” His head shook in disbelief. “It is a crime.”

Kaiba’s eyebrows dipped low over his eyes. “How so?”

 _How so?_ Jacob could barely believe his ears. “You said Setesh was the one to keep you in a sensory deprivation tank,” Selmak said, waiting for the affirming nod. “Was he also the one to choose your host and oversee the implantation?”

The queen nodded. “As I understand it, it was a quiet affair. No pomp and circumstance. If Ra found out I existed, then-” He shrugged.

“Wait,” Daniel said, sitting up with interest. “What does Ra have to do with this?”

Kaiba tilted his head to the archaeologist so his brown fringe shaded his blue eyes making them appear darker. “Queens are not spawned readily among the Goa’uld without considering all the risks involved,” he explained, “and, at the time at least, without Ra’s knowledge and permission. Spawning a queen without the Supreme System Lord’s consent was tantamount to rebellion. My queen, her consort, and Setesh were all aware of this fact, yet they did it anyway.”

“Who was your queen?” Martouf asked.

“Why do you ask?” Kaiba replied, meeting the Tok’ra’s pale blue eyes.

“I find it surprising that your queen allowed your implantation to happen as it did,” Martouf said. “Was she unaware of the circumstances?”

“She was fully aware of it,” Kaiba said carefully. “I believe it was her idea.”

Martouf’s thin, brown eyebrows flew up in surprise and he shared a look with Jacob. How could Kaiba be so careless about this? Unless he honestly had no idea how many offenses had been committed against him.

“My spawning queen was present at my implantation, but I’m not sure how long she stayed,” Kaiba continued. “There was also at least one lo’tar that I know of who was present as well. It was her child that would become my host. She did so with full knowledge of what was happening and gave her consent to the possession.”

“I find that hard to believe,” General Hammond said.

“I don’t care,” Kaiba said dryly.

“Lo’tar are the highest rank of human slaves,” Teal’c said. “They firmly believe the Goa’uld to be gods and worship them without restraint. To be implanted by a symbiote is considered the highest reward a lo’tar could receive.”

“Too true,” Martouf said with a grimace. “Lo’tar tend to be fanatically loyal to their respective Goa’uld. Trying to turn a lo’tar on their Goa’uld is incredibly difficult. Some have even betrayed our agents in exchange for verbal praise. For a lo’tar mother to give up her child for what she probably saw to be a gift from the gods is,” he shook his head sadly, “upsetting. But I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“My mother didn’t worship Setesh,” Kaiba said, startling them. “She hardly even trusted Isis. My mother worshiped other gods. Not Goa’uld. It was actually her descendants I later joined in the second rebellion against Ra that drove the Goa’uld from Earth. The Humans had already been forming an underground resistance against the System Lords before Osiris and Isis ever rebelled.”

“Your ‘mother’?” Sam repeated, frowning in confusion. “You call the lo’tar your mother?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Kaiba asked in return. “She was the one who raised me. My queen was rarely present and I may have been one of Setesh’s underlords but it was no a secret that I despised him. It was the lo’tar who raised me, therefore only she deserves the title of mother.”

“I see,” Sam murmured.

“What was her name?” Daniel asked. “Your mother, I mean.”

Kaiba hesitated. “Heket,” he said softly.

“Did she have other children?”

The queen shook his head. “No. I was the only child she had. Her sister had several children but I never interacted with them. Why?”

Daniel twisted his hands awkwardly. “Well, you said her descendants were the leaders of the second rebellion so I was just…” He shrugged. “Curious.”

Blue eyes considered the archaeologist a moment. “They weren’t her direct descendants,” Kaiba said finally. “They were her sister’s.”

“What about the queen who spawned you. What was her name?” Martouf asked, probably at the urging of his symbiote Lantash. Jacob could feel his own symbiote’s intense interest in the subject as well. Although, Jacob suspected Selmak already had an idea.

“Why do you want to know?” Kaiba asked suspiciously, his sharp gaze on Martouf.

Selmak sighed and spoke before Martouf had the chance. “It was Isis, wasn’t it?”

Kaiba kept silent, but his silence was answer enough. That explained much, such as at least one of the rebellions Kaiba was supposedly involved with, why Setesh was so involved with a queen who wasn’t attached to him, and Kaiba’s vehement hatred for Setesh.

“The same Isis whose symbol is on the communication device you gave us?” General Hammond asked.

“Yes,” Kaiba replied. “I may have been an underlord of Setesh, but it was well known that my loyalty was to Isis.”

“And what about Osiris?” Daniel asked curiously. “I’m assuming he was Isis’ consort like in the myths.”

“He was.” Kaiba thought for a moment before continuing. “Isis had power and influence as a System Lord, but she rarely attended meetings unless they were official or required. For this reason, she was deemed the right candidate to rule Earth while Ra was not present.” He scoffed. “She hated it. She preferred the freedom of space. Then along comes Osiris with his silver tongue and clever ability to string the System Lords up like puppets. Somehow, Osiris managed to get a sample of Ra’s DNA and gave it to Isis in exchange for becoming her consort thus promoting him to System Lord de facto.”

“Something Osiris was never fond of being reminded of,” Selmak said with Jacob’s permission.

Kaiba tilted his head slightly in silent agreement. “But where Isis hated being bound to one place, Osiris found he enjoyed it.” Kaiba smirked. “So while Isis spent her time traveling and studying science, Osiris ruled Earth as the first pharaoh, setting himself up as a god incarnate.”

“I was unaware Isis was a scientist,” Selmak said thoughtfully. “It was believed her constant travels were due to disinterest in politics.”

“It was, partially,” Kaiba admitted. “But she was first and foremost a scientist. Why do you think Osiris won her over with just Ra’s DNA?”

“Because she was a queen and…” Jacob felt Selmak’s words fade from his mouth just as he caught on to his symbiote’s realization. “She was studying DNA.”

“More specifically, the splicing of DNA with that from other races,” Kaiba said.

“That sounds familiar,” Sam muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Kaiba frowned at her, glancing between her and Jacob for clarification.

“There’s a Goa’uld doing something similar now with varied results,” Selmak said. “Nirrti. She’s a System Lord but she doesn’t get involved unless she has no other choice.”

“We found one of the planets she used as a base once,” Sam said, obviously uncomfortable with the subject. “She’d wiped out the entire population except for one child.”

Jacob studied the Goa’uld queen’s reaction closely and found himself approving of the disgusted horror creeping into Kaiba’s expression.

 _:There might very well be more Tok’ra in him than Goa’uld after all,:_ Selmak murmured thoughtfully. _:The addition of a queen friendly to our cause would be a boon to us. Our numbers are too few as it is.:_

 _:Are you sure we should suggest the idea?:_ Jacob warned. _:It didn’t work for Heru’ur.:_

 _:This is true,:_ Selmak said, caution coloring their words. _:But Heru’ur wanted Nephthys as a breeding queen, not a true queen. I can understand Nephthys’ reaction to such a suggestion.:_

Feeling Jacob’s confusion, Selmak obligingly provided memories of queen symbiotes in tanks doing nothing but breeding and spawning until they died. Jacob couldn’t fight back a wince at the images and accompanying emotions. That was hardly considered an existence.

 _:The System Lords are hypocrites,:_ Selmak said. _:Their queens are power but only if they are attached to a consort or spawning in a tank. Queens can gather loyal followers and garner favor for their causes with relative ease. Which brings to mind.:_

 _“_ Were you present during Osiris and Isis’ rebellion?” Selmak asked.

Blue eyes flashed white-gold in warning and Jacob sighed, resuming control of his body.

“Could you tell me what actually happened then?” he asked, feeling Selmak remain close in wary curiosity. “I’ve only been with the Tok’ra for a year now. I know some things but others are new to me. And, as it happens,” he mentally nudged Selmak, “the Tok’ra don’t know the full story of that rebellion either. We know Osiris and Isis rebelled and that Setesh betrayed them, but there was no mention of Nephthys’ involvement there in our histories.”

Kaiba snorted in dry amusement. He reached for his mug and took a long drink of the steaming liquid that made even Jack wince sympathetically.

“Setesh suggested the idea,” Kaiba explained. “I wasn’t present for that part. Somehow, he convinced Osiris who convinced Isis. Considering they already had disagreements with Ra, I’m not surprised they rebelled.” He shrugged, tapping his finger on the handle of his mug. “Since I was loyal to Isis and both Isis and Setesh were rebelling, I joined in.”

The tapping stopped.

“I should have seen it coming,” he murmured. “By the time we found out Setesh had betrayed us, it was already clear we’d lost. Ra had his forces ready for our attack and extinguished our own forces with ease. Osiris and Isis fled to the Chappa’ai but we were under heavy fire.”

Jacob knew that semi-glazed look in Kaiba’s eyes. He’d seen it in soldiers often. Remembering battles they’d fought, friends they’d lost, sights they wished they’d never seen. It was disorienting seeing that same look on someone who appeared to only be eighteen at most.

“I dialed the first address I could think of and laid down cover fire long enough for Isis and Osiris to go through,” Kaiba continued. “But by that point, I’d been injured and my reaction time was slowing. Besides,” he added, his gaze twitching just slightly to focus on the coffee mug, “if I’d left the dialing device and gone through the Stargate, it would have left the planet’s address visible to Ra’s forces. That wasn’t an option.”

“You stayed behind,” Jacob said, already knowing the answer.

“I deactivated the ‘Gate and fled on foot from there.”

If that wasn’t a clear end of discussion, Jacob would eat his foot. “And the second rebellion?” he asked, hoping to distract the queen from his dark thoughts. Unfortunately, the subject change seemed to make things worse.

Instead of answering right away, Kaiba turned to face his First Prime. Jacob blinked. The blonde boy had been so quiet, both Jacob and Selmak had almost forgotten Wheeler was present. The Goa’uld queen had a low, urgent discussion with Wheeler in rapid Japanese that the First Prime clearly wasn’t pleased about. But one sharp statement from Kaiba and Wheeler instantly shut up, grumbled, and walked out of the room. He did pause by the door to shoot a glare at Kaiba before going down the stairs though.

“Trouble in paradise?” Col. O’Neill asked in mock concern.

“Wheeler may be my First Prime, but we hardly trust each other,” Kaiba said flippantly. “Some things he can’t know yet.”

Gray eyebrows lifted in not-so-innocent surprise. “Whyever not?”

“Because his loyalty lies elsewhere.”

 _:Why have a First Prime who isn’t loyal to him?:_ Selmak wondered, mirroring Jacob’s own thoughts.

“We succeeded in the second rebellion,” Kaiba said, startling the people at the table by picking up the conversation abruptly where they left off. “But we ended up fighting two wars on two fronts. One against the System Lords and the other against a traitor in our own ranks. I knew Osiris had been captured when Ra fired his weapon on us.” He chuckled darkly. “We were lucky. We still had our full number when we repelled the weapon. Had Ra waited one more day, we wouldn’t have had our full number and we would have lost everything.”

“What weapon?” Jacob asked.

Kaiba snorted and shot him a wry look that made it clear he wasn’t going to say.

“Repelling Ra’s weapon ultimately won us the battle against the System Lords. But the very next day, we woke to find one of our number murdered. We lost the second the day after that when we buried the Stargate. The third was taken as a host by Setesh at some point between the second’s death and the final battle.”

The glaze returned to Kaiba blue eyes and Jacob winced sympathetically. Whatever happened must have been awful to witness.

“Setesh dosed me with nish’ta when I was vulnerable and forced me to betray my comrades.”

 _:Egeria have mercy,:_ Selmak murmured.

 _:Holy Hannah,:_ Jacob agreed.

“Our leader broke me out of it, but I’d already lost someone I cared about and mortally wounded a friend,” Kaiba continued. “I pulled a temple down on Setesh’s head, killing his host and supposedly killing him. I didn’t know he’d survived until he showed up again in Seattle.” He sneered. “Bastard.”

Taking a deep breath, Kaiba took another drink of coffee. “There were only three of us left when we faced the traitor directly. We were no match for him. I wasn’t…” He pressed his lips together. “I wasn’t mentally ready for the battle and my fellow priestess was gravely injured. Our leader ended up paying the ultimate price to get rid of the traitor and save our lives. After that, the priestess and I helped rebuild our home then went our separate ways. She went into hiding and I… left.”

“Priestess?” Daniel wondered aloud.

“With the exception of our leader, we were all priests,” Kaiba said, nodding. “I told you before. My mother worshiped different gods.” Glacial blue eyes flickered to the archaeologist. “So do I. So did we all. We fought in our gods’ name using their power. We won. But using their power always has a price. We paid it. In a way, we’re still paying for it. But better this than the alternative.”

“Death.”

Kaiba opened his mouth, then shut it and shrugged. “Close enough.”

Jacob probably didn’t want to know.


	29. First Prime and Chevron Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jounouchi hates being left out, realizes he might actually not mind Kaiba as much as he used to, and ends the day in a very good mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I return! This is all Jounouchi. Also, in case anyone's curious, Chevron Guy is Master Sergeant Norman Walter Davis Harriman. Aka, Master Sergeant Walter Harriman. He does indeed have a wife an two sons in canon. The details are not, except for in this fic.
> 
>  **Couple quick things:** First, Jounouchi can canonically use a yo-yo as a weapon. This was demonstrated effectively in the original manga and maybe Season 0. Can't remember if Season 0 went that far or not. Second, Jounouchi thinks/talks about some things in here that may be uncomfortable but are, by and large, canon to YGO. Just FYI.
> 
> Just as a reminder: Lantash is Martouf's symbiote and Selmak is Jacob Carter's symbiote. I know that can be hard to keep track of. Sorry.
> 
>  **Goa'uld Translation:**  
>  *Kel sha \- No direct translation, but has been used as both a familiar greeting and as an acknowledgment such as "by your will" ; _in this case, Kaiba uses it as a familiar greeting_

Jounouchi grumbled and paced. He got it. He did. He just wasn’t _fine_ with it. Why would he be? He’d been kicked out.

Damn Kaiba.

Damn if the guy wasn’t right too. Fuck.

He let his head thunk back against the wall of the walkway leading from the control room to the hallway nearby. He couldn’t hear anything going on in the conference room even though he desperately wanted to. Every instinct _screamed_ at him to listen in, learn what he could, and pass the information on to Yugi. Maybe it would help Yami remember who he was.

But then he remembered Kaiba’s sharp words.

_“If he remembers too soon, he will die.”_

And yeah, Jounouchi didn’t want that.

He thunked his head against the wall again and stared out at the inactive Stargate. Chapstick-aye, his ass. It had been awesome. Hell, Jounouchi would gladly borrow the pun and declare the thing had literally been out of this word. But now it was turned off and Jounouchi was bored stiff and useless.

At least he had his yo-yo. When Yugi gave it to him, Jounouchi had been surprised and uneasy. He hadn’t touched a yo-yo since his gang days. He’d missed them though. He’d been practicing to make sure he hadn’t lost his touch. Yugi’s encouragement and awe at every new trick just fueled Jounouchi’s excitement. It also helped him calm his racing mind and gave his hands something to do when he needed to fiddle. The fact he could use it as a weapon was just a bonus.

“How old are you, kid?”

Startled, Jounouchi caught his yo-yo mid swing and looked up. The airman who spoke was an older man with graying hair and big, round rimmed glasses. He’d been the one to operate the Stargate when the aliens arrived earlier. Jounouchi had mentally dubbed him Chevron Guy because he kept calling out stuff like “Chevron blankety-blank encoded.” He seemed nice, but Jounouchi had been tricked before.

“Sixteen,” he said, tucking his hands and yo-yo in his pants pockets. “Why?”

Chevron Guy blinked in surprise. “Sixteen?” he gasped.

Jounouchi shrugged. “Yeah. What’s the big deal?”

“You’re only in high school,” Chevron Guy said. “How did you get involved with a Goa’uld?”

Huh. Good point. That probably was weird.

“I…”

What was he supposed to say? They met Kaiba when Yugi defeated him in a duel, then again when Kaiba tried to kill them and Yugi defeated him, then again during the whole Duelist Kingdom mess, and now they’re kinda-sorta on friendly terms? Heh. Yeah freaking right.

On second thought.

“Some crazy lunatic kidnapped Kaiba’s brother,” Jounouchi said. “He didn’t like that so he tracked the lunatic down. Me and-” He bit his tongue and started again. “I was already there playing in a tournament when Kaiba showed up. Brought some new holographic tech too. Whooped my butt with it. Asshole.”

He’d get Kaiba back for that one day. He swore it.

“Anyway, we found out why he was there and tried to help.” He winced. “Took some work, but we managed. We’ve been on…” he hesitated, “decent terms ever since.”

Chevron Guy frowned. “Was it Setesh?” he asked.

“Hm? Naw,” he replied, waving off the suggestion. “It was before that.”

“Oh.”

Well, this was awkward. Damn freaking Kaiba for kicking him out.

“How did you become his First Prime then?” Chevron Guy asked.

“Uh, heh.” Despite his unease, Jounouchi smirked. “Would you believe me if I said he asked?” Judging from the look on the airman’s face, it was doubtful. Jounouchi snickered. “He did. Though, granted, I kind of asked him for his help first.”

He glanced back up at the conference room before coming to a decision. He wanted to protect Yugi, and he _would_ , but in order to do that he needed more information. The fact Kaiba had let him sit in on as much as he had and learn as much as he did made it clear moneybags expected Jounouchi to pass everything on to Yugi. And since these people were technically allies, and they’d seen a lot of weird stuff, there was a chance Jounouchi’s story might not sound too far out there.

“A friend of mine got captured by Setesh,” he said, noticing the way Chevron Guy sat up straighter at the mention of the alien’s name. “Kidnapped is more like,” Jounouchi grumbled. “We were at a gaming convention when some of Setesh’s cultists came in and… I don’t really know how to explain it. My friend was fine one minute, then going with them the next.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t notice until they were already leaving,” he continued. “I followed them to the complex but the gate was locked so I climbed the fence. Thought I was actually getting somewhere.” He grimaced. “Then I saw the guns.”

Chevron Guy winced sympathetically.

“They were _big_ guns,” Jounouchi said, pulling his yo-yo out and toying with it. “Military grade. The kind I’ve only seen in movies.” He sighed. “So I went to Kaiba and asked him for help. The guy’s insane but in a genius sort of way. He’s also tried to kill me before and broke into an island on lockdown filled with trigger happy goons who were out for his head and kidnapped his brother, and almost got away with it. So I figured if anyone could break into Setesh’s place and get my friend out without getting caught,” he shrugged, “it’d be Kaiba.”

Weird. Chevron Guy didn’t look so good. What’d Jounouchi say to make the guy uncomfortable?

“Did it work?” the airman asked.

“I mean, yeah,” Jounouchi said, scratching his head. “He wasn’t happy about it, though. Anyway, he told me about the whole alien-in-the-head thing right before we broke into Setesh’s place.” He pointed to his temple significantly. “Actually, that was later, but that’s when he told me he was an alien anyway. Told me to call him Set but to expect Setesh to call him Nephthys. Also warned me about the brainwashing toxin.” He shuddered. “Man, whatever Setesh did to Kaiba back in the day, it must’ve been some messed up shit.”

Chevron Guy frowned. “I thought he worked for Setesh. That’s what the Tok’ra told us,” he added when Jounouchi gave him a look.

“Yeah, Kaiba said something like that,” he said, shaking his head. “I was going to tease him about that but…” He glanced back up at the conference room he’d been kicked out of -yes, he was still sore about that- and winced. “I probably won’t anymore.”

Chevron Guy turned in his chair to follow Jounouchi’s gaze and something in his eyes sharpened. “What happened?” he asked.

Jounouchi scoffed. “Nothing much. Just the good old lord-betrays-allies-by-leading-them-directly-to-the-guillotine type of thing,” he said dryly. “I don’t understand everything, but I got the gist of it. Kaiba _hates_ Setesh and I don’t blame him one bit.” He bit his lip. “I just…”

He looked back at Chevron Guy and wondered if he should really be talking about this. The airman would probably hear it all later anyway and Kaiba wasn’t keeping it a secret so there wasn’t any real reason _not_ to talk about it. And damn it, Jounouchi needed to vent to _someone_ who at least understood this whole mess better than he did. Who knew, maybe he could finangle some more information out and put the pieces he _knew_ he was missing together. Or at least get a better picture of what was going on.

Kaiba was not Jounouchi’s friend, but the guy wasn’t as bad as he used to be. Not since Yami blasted the guy with that Penalty Game thing. Twice. He used to be homicidal, now he was just insane. There was difference.

Maybe it was an alien thing.

Licking his lips, Jounouchi rolled his yo-yo between his hands before toying with it again and speaking. “Look man,” he said, waiting for Chevron Guy to look back at him, “I’ve only ever seen Kaiba scared, like _legitimately_ scared a couple of times. Each time, he’d been about to lose something important. The first time, it was his sanity. The second and third times, it was the hope of ever seeing his brother again. Scared,” he scoffed at his own wording. “Fuck that. He actually looked terrified. He threatened to kill himself if he lost a duel.”

He swallowed and looked away when Chevron Guy’s eyes widened in astonishment. “I know it doesn’t sound like much,” Jounouchi admitted. “It was just a game. We all thought he was crazy. Who threatened to jump off a cliff just to win a game?”

Kaiba.

Jounouchi swallowed thickly. “But then we found out why and it all made sense.” He sighed. “Still think he’s crazy, but it’s the kind of crazy that makes sense once you know where he’s coming from.” He wrinkled his nose and swung his yo-yo back into his palm. “Sort of.”

He shook his head and pointed back up to the conference room. “What I’m trying to say is every time Kaiba was terrified, there was a _damn_ good reason to be. When he went into Setesh’s hellhole with me, he wasn’t just terrified like I’m-not-going-to-win-this terrified. He was I’m-going-to-live-through-this-and-wish-I-was-dead-every-second-of-it terrified. I used to be with the yakuza. I know that look. I’ve seen it before.”

Hell, he’d probably made that same face himself more than once.

“Whatever Setesh did to him?” Jounouchi didn’t want to think about it. “I don’t have to know. I saw the way that creepy bastard looked at Kaiba. I’m not the smartest guy in the room, I’ll be the first to admit that. But I’m not _that_ dense.”

He shuddered and ran his hands over his face, careful not to let his yo-yo get tangled in his bangs. “And he still went in there to help me get my friend out of there because I _asked_ him to.”

And dear god was that one hell of a revelation.

“So yeah,” he said. “When he asked me to be his First Prime, I said yes.”

Jounouchi could fight. He’d spent years fighting on the streets trying to make what little money he could to survive with his drunkard of a father a useless couch potato. He’d rather _not_ fight, but he wasn’t afraid to throw a fist at something if it was needed. Yugi wasn’t happy with his habits, but if it kept the squirt safe then Jounouchi would do it.

Kaiba asked him to be First Prime. He’d _asked._ Not commanded or demanded or stated as fact. He’d honest-to-god asked. Then he’d come to their hotel room here in Colorado, explained the finer details of the position, and asked again. Play bodyguard and confidant to Kaiba, pass information on to Yugi, keep Yugi safe from any threats that might come up. Honda and Anzu could keep an eye on Yugi when Jounouchi wasn’t there in person and if something _did_ happen, Jounouchi would probably know almost immediately because of his luck and his clairvoyance.

Clairvoyance. So that was a thing too apparently. Anzu was the most skilled out of their little group but it turned out Honda and Jounouchi had a limited form. Unfortunately, their skill was locked on Yugi alone. According to Kaiba, that skill plus Jounouchi’s luck were weapons that could double as shields.

Were Jounouchi and Kaiba friends? Aw hell no. But they weren’t enemies anymore. They were… Friends-with-limitations? Cautious allies? Something like that. They both wanted Yugi safe but had different methods of doing it and different enemies to protect him from. What the hell. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Even if it was a stupid, wings-for-brains, dragon-loving idiot of a alien rich boy.

And Chevron Guy was staring at him.

Awkwardly, Jounouchi cleared his throat. “Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t mean to talk your ear off,” he said, crossing his arms while still absently playing with his yo-yo in the ensuing silence.

“I have two sons,” Chevron Guy said suddenly. “They’re both around your age. One wants to join the military and the other wants to be dancer.”

Jounouchi huffed a laugh. “Broadway or ballet?”

“Broadway,” the man said, a proud smile on his face.

“I know someone like that,” Jounouchi said. “She’s been dreaming of traveling to America to dance on Broadway as long as I’ve known her. She’ll do it too if it kills her.”

“Preferably not,” Chevron Guy joked.

Jounouchi tilted his head in agreement and laughed. Then Chevron Guy’s smile faded.

“I can’t imagine either of my boys in your position,” he said and Jounouchi fell silent, a weight settling on his shoulders. “I’d rather die before letting them get stuck in your position.”

Jounouchi shrugged self-consciously. “I’m not really stuck.”

“Maybe not,” Chevron Guy conceded. “But I get the feeling this isn’t close to the first time you’ve seen things someone your age shouldn’t have to.”

And boy was that true.

“Do your parents know?”

Now that was just hilarious. It really shouldn’t be but Jounouchi still found himself cackling like some kind of madman. Or Kaiba when he threw down one of his infamous Blue Eyes White Dragons on the field. Same thing really.

“Oh yeah,” he drawled. “My parents. Ooh yeah, I bet they are _so_ worried about me.” He nodded dramatically. “Absolutely. Definitely. That’s why my mom walked out on us and took my sister leaving me behind with a drunk-ass dad who can’t even make it to the bathroom before puking on himself. Right. They did all that because they _care_ about me.”

Wow. He really should stop laughing because this wasn’t even remotely funny. But damn it, he just couldn’t. Until something smacked him on the back, hard. Then he wasn’t laughing, he was coughing.

“What the hell?” he gasped.

Staggering, he looked up to a pair of bright blue eyes that somehow managed to look both concerned and judgmental at the same time. Jounouchi really needed to figure out how Kaiba managed to do that. It just wasn’t normal.

Oh. Right.

“I leave you alone for a few minutes and you try to kill yourself by laughing,” Kaiba said in a flat, unimpressed tone that rubbed Jounouchi in all the wrong ways. “Do I have to keep my eye on you every second of every day?”

“Fuck you, moneybags,” Jounouchi spat, promptly coughing again.

He heard Kaiba groan in annoyance above him before his back was smacked again, not as hard this time. His coughing eased and he stood straight again.

“I’m good,” he said, then swung his fist right at Kaiba’s face.

Rich boy caught it with one hand and forced his arm down with his inhuman strength. Okay, Jounouchi expected Kaiba to block his fist like he usually did, but the show of strength just wasn’t fair. Rich boy was just showing off now.

Kaiba hummed noncommittally. “Mm, so I see.”

He released Jounouchi’s fist and sighed through his nose. Then he turned to Chevron Guy who was standing now looking startled. When did that happen?

“Walter,” Kaiba said. “Kel sha.”

Chevron Guy started to take a step back before planting his feet and meeting Kaiba’s gaze sternly. Strangely, instead of being ticked off by Chevron Guy’s defiance, Kaiba actually looked amused, maybe even impressed.

“You guys know each other?” Jounouchi asked.

“Somewhat,” Kaiba replied.

“You mind controlled me,” Chevron Guy said.

Jounouchi’s mouth dropped open. “You did what?” he gasped. Then, “Wait a sec. You can _do_ that? Why didn’t you do that to stop Pegasus?”

The glare he got for that was particularly vicious. “Why do you think?” Kaiba hissed.

Oh. Shit. The Eye. Damn it, he forgot.

“Besides,” Kaiba added, his tone easing a bit, “it wasn’t mind control in its truest form. More like hypnotism.”

“You’re not making your case any better,” Dr. Jackson, stepping into view. “Wheeler.”

Jounouchi raised a hand to halfheartedly return the greeting.

“Technicalities,” Kaiba said, waving the subject aside and choosing to focus his attention on the two Tok’ra who also stepped into Jounouchi’s view.

“Technicalities can make or break a treaty, you know,” Jacob said.

Jounouchi was pretty sure it was Jacob anyway. It could be Selmak but the Tok’ra’s voice didn’t have that metallic hollow sound to it like Kaiba’s sometimes did. From what Jounouchi had come to understand, whenever the symbiote spoke, they let their voices have that echoey quality while the host’s voice sounded normal. Kaiba seemed to be able to change his voice on demand. There wasn’t any evidence saying Selmak or Lantash couldn’t do that too, Jounouchi just hadn’t heard it happen yet.

He glanced at Kaiba who snorted and tucked his hands in his pants pockets with a sly grin. “They can also allow for things like the Tok’ra to visit worlds under the Protected Planets Treaty,” he said.

Jounouchi’s eyebrows shot up. There _was_ such a thing? What was it? Something like the United Federation of Planets?

“That only affects the Goa’uld and the System Lords,” Lantash said. Definitely Lantash because of the voice change.

“And yet here we are,” Kaiba said.

Ooh, Jacob and Selmak did _not_ like that.

“We are not Goa’uld,” Selmak snapped.

Wait, what? That’s not what Kaiba told him. The Tok’ra were a socio-political branch of the Goa’uld.

Kaiba scoffed and, judging from his expression, he was just as surprised by Selmak’s words as Jounouchi was. His sharp blue eyes shifted to General Hammond. Geez, did everyone come down here? This room wasn’t that big people.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Kaiba demanded. “I was told the Tok’ra were Goa’uld. Is that not true?”

“Technically,” Maj. Carter spoke up from behind Dr. Jackson, “they are Goa’uld.” She winced when a pair of offended expressions locked on her. “But they prefer to think of themselves as Tok’ra. Only Tok’ra.”

“They prefer to remain ignorant then,” Kaiba said, disdain dripping from his voice. “Then I have no further business here.” Abruptly, he turned and started walking away.

“Wait!”

“I would rather deal with imbecilic megalomaniacs than a group of arrogant Goa’uld who would deny their own genetics,” Kaiba snapped, whirling around in fury. “You, snake,” Lantash flinched, “you demanded to know the identity of my queen. I demand to know the same. What queen was stupid enough to spawn arrogant excuses for children?”

“I would ask that you not insult her in that fashion,” Lantash said, holding up both hands palms out in an effort to ease the rising tensions.

“Her name!” Kaiba hissed.

Lantash sighed and glanced at Selmak before answering. “Egeria,” he said. “She was hunted down and killed for her crime of creating us.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Jounouchi wasn’t the best at reading the atmosphere, but he knew when Kaiba was angry. There was just something about it that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The air smelled like lightning and Jounouchi shifted his stance to something more balanced and adjusted his hold on his yo-yo. Just in case.

Then Kaiba straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. The utter contempt in his gaze almost made Jounouchi feel bad for the Tok’ra.

“Egeria,” Kaiba said, his voice dangerously calm like the moment he taunted an opponent before obliterating them with Blue Eyes. “Ra’s second queen.”

Okay. That didn’t sound good. Wait a second. Jounouchi knew that look. He frowned and stared at Kaiba’s glare more closely. Oh shit. That was the same glare rich boy shot at Yugi sometimes.

_Rival!_

Shit. Not good. Things seemed to be going so well earlier. What the hell had happened after Jounouchi left?

“These are the allies you choose to align yourselves with?” Kaiba said to the general in the same tone of voice he used to deride a duelist’s strategy. “I thought better of you. If these imbeciles can’t even acknowledge and accept their own lineage and genetics, then they are doomed to fail. Tok’ra,” he said, addressing Selmak and Lantash directly, “as long as you deny what you are, you run the risk of succumbing to the same pitfalls the System Lords are guilty of. I will have no part in that. Come back to me when you actually start to think straight. Wheeler.”

Without another word, Kaiba turned and stalked out of the room. Jounouchi took one last look at the people, tossed a two fingered salute at Chevron Guy, and followed behind.

“That went well,” he muttered under his breath as he and Kaiba walked down the hall. No one got in their way. Jounouchi didn’t blame them. Kaiba’s current glare could probably melt a Navy Seal where they stood. Yeesh.

“It was starting to,” Kaiba said. “Then their IQ reared its head and I had to leave the room before they dragged me down to their level.”

Jounouchi snorted. “Burn,” he snickered. “Eh well, whatever.” He stretched, jumping and slapping his hand on one of the crossbeams lining the ceiling above his head. “We’ve got better things to do.” He shot a smirk at Kaiba. “Like wiping the floor with your ass in Battle City.”

Kaiba huffed. “There’s no way you’ll ever defeat me, Wheeler,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“That’s what you think.”

“That’s what I know.”

“Whatever you say, Queen Nephthys.”

Kaiba stopped in his tracks and Jounouchi paused a few steps ahead, turning back to get a good look at the dumbstruck expression on rich boy’s face. It was utterly priceless. Man, he should’ve brought his camera.

“I will destroy you, Wheeler,” Kaiba snarled, the shock not completely gone from his clear blue eyes.

“Didn’t you know?” Jounouchi taunted, tapping the side of his nose and winking. “I have Lady Luck on my side.”

Glacial blue eyes narrowed viciously. “And I have money and technology. The semi-finals stage of the tournament is going to be held on a blimp which will leave promptly. Any semi-finalist who arrives late will be automatically disqualified.” He smirked. “I’ll make sure you’re late.”

 _“What?!”_ Jounouchi cried, startling more than a few airmen and scientists within earshot. “Fuck you! That ain’t fair!” Hold on. A sly grin worked its way onto his face. “You think I’m good enough to be a semi-finalist?”

That glare was all the answer Jounouchi needed. He couldn’t be brought down from his good mood for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** This chapter is done in memory of actor Carmen Argenziano who played Jacob Carter/Selmak in Stargate SG-1. He passed away on February 10, 2019 at the age of 75. Rest in peace sir.


	30. Of Priests and Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seto goes to a secret meeting, finds a Priestess lost long ago, and receives something that should _never_ have been bound by a mortal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I warned in the comments last chapter that canon will begin to leave orbit soon. It left a bit sooner than I expected. Whoops. Sorry not sorry. If it means anything, I didn't realize it would happen until I wrote it. I have no regrets.
> 
> Shadi finally gets referenced in this chapter. He will appear sometime later on and boy will that be interesting to write. All that said, I'll edit this seriously tomorrow morning when I'm actually awake. Night y'all~

The museum was quiet now that most of the patrons had left. Only a handful remained, finishing up their self-guided tours before hurrying to the exits. Security guards and janitors wandered the halls. But Seto remained where he was, waiting in the silence.

Since it opened, the temporary Egyptian exhibit had drawn much of the foot traffic in the museum. Some things Seto recognized, most he did not. There was an exact replica of an ancient Egyptian ship built as it would have been thousands of years ago. Every piece of wood cut to exact specifications so each piece would fit snugly with its mate. No mistakes. No nails. Just wood, sweat, bindings, and the waters of the Nile and Mediterranean Sea.

The ship he currently stood by was not one of the greater vessels designed to carry the lords, priests, and Pharaohs. This was a lesser vessel for fishing or small joy rides for middle class citizens. He missed those days sometimes. The freedom of it. The hot sun on his back, the humidity, the greenery along the Nile, the sand and rocky wastes of the desert, and the intense blue-green of the sea. He was old and so very tired.

Soft footsteps padded nearby and he felt the tension return to his shoulders. The person’s shoes were fabric, not the plastic or rubber of most modern shoes. The steps stopped several paces behind him, but he refused to turn around. If they wished to address him, then they would start it.

 _“The museum is now closed,”_ a female voice announced over the building’s speakers. _“All patrons, please proceed to the exits now.”_

He didn’t move. He couldn’t see the person’s reflection in the plexiglass case protecting the Egyptian vessel from curious hands and outside influences. He could wait.

Footsteps, heavier than the first, echoed from Seto’s right. He glanced in that direction through the corner of his eye and saw a man of Middle Eastern descent blocking the hallway back to the front of the museum.

“There is no one else in this exhibit,” a man said, bowing at the waist.

More footsteps, this time from Seto’s left, echoed and Seto felt his temper begin to fray.

“No sign of any surveillance or other persons present,” the man of Seto’s left declared.

Seto scoffed. “You go to the trouble of summoning me here, and then treat me like a criminal.”

“Forgive our excessive measures,” the person behind him said.

Her voice matched the voice from the phone call and it made Seto’s Shadows hiss in displeasure. Curiously, the woman paused, as if she could hear the inaudible hiss. When she spoke again, her voice held a hint of awe and curiosity which Seto found intriguing.  

“We have had several attempted thefts since we first opened this exhibit,” she said. “If we are to speak in privacy and safety, I had to ensure we truly are alone and safe.”

“As you say,” he said, tilting his head slightly. His gaze never left his own reflection in the plexiglass. “Are you satisfied?”

The woman hummed. “I will likely never be satisfied.”

Seto allowed himself a smirk. “Wise words.”

He let the silence hang between them, refusing to bow to her presence. If she wanted to see his face, then he would make her ask. He could wait.

So could she, it turned out. Seto was pleasantly surprised when he heard no whispered word or sigh or brush of fabric on tile for several minutes. It wasn’t until the man on Seto’s left shifted that Seto chuckled.

“They seem to lack discipline,” the woman said mildly.

Seto heard the man’s awkward cough before indulging in his victory with a smirk. “We all must start somewhere,” he said.

“True.” The woman hummed softly. “I will not ask that we change our location. This room is open and the acoustics will alert us of any potential intruder. Will that suffice?”

“It’s passable,” he said, finally turning around like he knew the woman wished him to.

Immediately, all the confidence he had worked so hard to build up vanished. He felt small and young and alone. What kind of cruel trick of fate was this? Dark hair the shade of the blackest night fell around the woman’s face, framing her midnight blue eyes. The sun kissed skin a shade or so darker than his own showed no hint of age. It was as if no time had passed at all.

Perhaps that was the worst part of it. Seto could feel every change his body, both that of his host and that of his serpentine self, had undergone over 5,000 years. Five thousand lifetimes. Yet she had not changed, had not aged a day since he last saw her. Or so it seemed.

The closer he looked, the more differences he saw. Her jaw was sharper than he remembered, her eyes softer, her hair bound up in golden bands instead of hanging loose and speckled with colorful beads. She was not as tall as he remembered and she undoubtedly looked younger.

They weren’t the same woman. But Seto would go to his grave with the certainty that this woman was Priestess Isis’ reincarnation.

“I see my appearance has startled you,” the woman who was once Isis said, a sadness tinging her gaze. “My apologies. I knew you would not believe me unless you saw me with your own eyes. I hope you can forgive me, Set.”

Set. _Set._

“Isis?” he whispered, unable to find the strength to call louder. As it was, his whisper was more of a plea for truth than a demand or exclamation.

She smiled and it was ever so sad and comforting. “Hello, Set,” she said. “I’m sorry it took so long for our paths to cross once more.”

He didn’t care. Not right now. He _couldn’t_ care.

“Is it really you?” he whispered.

Her smiled softened. “It is.”

Silently, she reached up and undid the scarf wrapped around her shoulders to protect against the cool, mountain breeze outside and revealed her neck, collarbone, and the familiar sheen of dark gold. It was her. By Ra’s blessed flame, it _was_ Isis.

Dark fingers brushed the golden Eye of Ra emblazoned on the Millennium Tauk resting against her skin just above her collarbone. “I was fourteen when I was chosen by the Tauk,” she said. “The Trial of Acceptance was… difficult.”

It always was.

“But when I passed,” her midnight blue eyes opened and lifted to Seto’s, “it showed me how to unlock the memories of my past lives.”

“Lives?” he breathed. “You were reborn before?”

She nodded. “Twice that I have been able to discover,” she confirmed. “Perhaps more, but I am unable to find more hidden memories that are clear enough to interpret with any accuracy.” She sighed. “My name is Ishizu Ishtar now.”

Seto nodded. “So you said.” Reluctantly, he reached back under his purple trench coat and withdrew the Millennium Rod. “It has never left my keeping,” he said, studying the dark gleam of the dim lights in the exhibit hall on the golden scepter. “I tried throwing it away more than once.” His grip tightened. “Each time it found its way back to me.”

Ishizu nodded sadly. “I admit,” she began softly, lowering her hand so she could hug herself, “I buried the Tauk in the sand beyond our home a few days after I passed the Tauk’s Trial.” The corners of her eyes creased with remembered pain. “When I went to bed that night, it was resting on the floor by my bedroom door.”

“They never let go,” Seto said grimly.

The silence that fell between them was heavy but companionable.

“I wish our meeting could have been during better circumstances,” Ishizu said finally, lifting her gaze to Seto’s. “But it would seem the gods do not wish us to remain inactive any longer. I need your help.” The strength he remembered from her past life flickered in the depths of her dark blue gaze fueled by the passion and life of her current existence. “It’s my brother. He has been taken by a false god.”

That wasn’t what Seto had been expecting. He stiffened, resisting the desire to allow his eyes to glow in irritation.

“Is that so,” he said, spinning the Rod in his hand absently before returning it to his belt. “Who?”

Ishizu shook her head, clasping her hands by her stomach. “I do not know,” she admitted. “The snake was preserved in a canopic jaw we discovered in the ruins of an old ship during the dry season. The Nile had retreated far from its banks and excavated part of the vessel from the sand.” She lifted her gaze to the ship behind Seto. “That is a replica of that very ship.”

Seto narrowed his eyes in consideration. “I do not have a way to free your brother from the serpent’s grasp,” he admitted. “Not without potentially killing what is left of your brother as well.”

Her eyes saddened. “I feared as much,” she whispered, dipping her head and brushing her fingers against the Tauk once more. “I had a vision of my brother dueling the Pharaoh. The outcome was… less than preferable.”

Seto scoffed. “He would never lose to someone other than me,” he declared with surety.

Ishizu huffed a weary laugh. “I knew you would say that,” she teased, much to Seto’s chagrin. Her amusement quickly vanished. “You are correct, though. He did not lose. He was murdered.” Midnight blue, as cold and merciless as the Nile’s current met Seto frigid blue gaze. “I am here to ensure that does not happen.”

“You know I swore never to let that happen,” Seto said earnestly.

“And yet fate as a way of circumventing even our strongest resistance,” Ishizu said easily.

Seto narrowed his eyes. “I will not let it happen again,” he hissed in determination. “I _died_ the day I lost him. Destiny can be changed.”

Ishizu drew a deep breath and let it out through her nose. “That is something you and I have never agreed on. I doubt that will change now.”

“Then you admit that the Pharaoh’s destiny is to die again,” Seto said, reining in his frustration, “and yet you came all the way to the United States to try to stop it.”

She winced and clutched her Tauk. “Just because I know something is inevitable does not mean I will simply accept it.” Her fist tightened. “I will fight it with all my strength. If all I can do is delay the inevitable, then I will delay it.”

“Or you could stop it,” Seto said, crossing the distance between them in three, long strides. “I refuse to accept destiny is absolute. We lost the Pharaoh once. I _refuse_ to allow that to happen again.” His glare eased slightly. “If I have to kill your brother to ensure his safety, you know I will.”

Ishizu’s shoulders drooped and her head bowed. “I know you will,” she whispered. “However much I wish it will not come to pass, I know he will die.” She winced and shut her eyes. “I have _seen_ it.”

Seto straightened and studied the woman who was once his closest comrade aside from the Pharaoh. She had been the big sister he never had and he tried to be the friend and confidant she needed. After the Pharaoh’s death at the hands of the traitor, he and Isis had clung to each other’s existence until it became too painful and they were forced to separate. Isis to the underground labyrinth where her ancestors hid from and plotted the downfall of the Goa’uld, and Seto to the far reaches of the Earth.

Alone.

“Setesh survived,” he said.

Ishizu tensed, her head flying up to stare at him in shock. “But you killed him,” she gasped. “I was there. I saw it.”

“He survived,” Seto insisted. “Apparently, he’d been surviving by jumping from host to host and leading cults throughout the years. We found him in Seattle, Washington.”

Midnight blue darkened dangerously. “We?” she repeated.

“The Pharaoh and his friends,” Seto said. “They brought the matter to me instead of stumbling headlong into that Osiris-accursed hellhole.”

Ishizu considered Seto’s words silently, her penetrating gaze locked on his face. “Wise choice,” she said finally. “Is he dead?” Seto nodded. “You’re sure?” He nodded again. “You killed him then.”

Seto clicked his tongue in annoyance. “I didn’t get the chance. Which brings to mind-”

“Set,” Ishizu interrupted, her gaze hardening as she rested a hand lightly on his arm. “Do not change the subject. You did not kill him. Are you satisfied with that?”

No.

He didn’t have to say it out loud. She knew. She was there. She saw what had been done to him. What he’d been forced to do. The devastation his actions had wrought on his comrades, his lover, and on himself. Isis had been there, seen it, experienced it, and still forgave him.

“Neither am I,” Ishizu murmured, hatred nipping at the edges of her voice. “I will settle with his death, but I am not _satisfied_ with it.” For a moment she did not speak, then, “Did he see you? When you entered his lair?”

He didn’t answer right away, but that must have been answer enough. Ishizu’s eyes darkened dangerously and she snarled. “What did he do?” she hissed like an asp waiting for an excuse to strike.

“Nothing,” Seto said. He met her gaze evenly and repeated in a stronger voice, “He did nothing. He never got the chance.” When she merely lifted an eyebrow in disbelief, he sighed. “He threatened. That’s all. We found the Pharaoh’s friend and left while he was distracted by the invasion.”

Her forehead creased in confusion. “Invasion?”

Seto glanced warily at the two men standing guard on either side of the room. Technically, they were well within earshot given the good acoustics in this museum. But were their ears _listening?_

“They are from my clan,” Ishizu said, pitching her voice low nonetheless. “They can be trusted.”

Seto trusted Isis and he wanted to trust Ishizu, but some things were best not spoken of with uninsured ears nearby. He leaned down so his lips brushed Ishizu’s ear and whispered, “The Chappa’ai has been reopened.”

Her shocked gasp echoed in the exhibit hall. When Seto leaned back, he could see Ishizu struggling to grasp the full weight of his words.

“That…” She shook her head, unwilling to believe it. “But that’s… Impossible. We _destroyed_ the dialing device. It’s _useless_ without that.”

“They built their own,” Seto said, impressed despite his misgivings. “We didn’t count on that.”

Ishizu’s mouth opened and closed as she tried to come up with the words to express her shock but came up empty.

“They’ve made contact with the Goa’uld,” Seto said. At this, Ishizu’s mouth slammed shut and her gaze locked on his, hyper-focused. “They’ve also made allies.”

“Who?” she demanded fiercely.

“The Asgard.”

Dismay made Ishizu’s expression fall, her eyes closing as she bowed her head. “I am unable to decide whether I am pleased or furious,” she spat.

“I’m furious,” Seto admitted readily. “They know it.”

“You’ve met these people?” Ishizu asked. “Do you trust them?”

Seto considered his words carefully. “I trust a few,” he said slowly. “They have yet to earn my full trust, but there are a select few I am willing to give a chance.”

“Tell me about them,” the former priestess demanded.

Seto snickered. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Dr. Daniel Jackson.”

Ishizu blinked, her mouth forming a small ‘oh’ of realization. “We thought he had simply gone away to wallow in his misery,” she said bluntly. “We didn’t even have to do anything. The academic community destroyed him more thoroughly than we ever could. And faster.” She hummed. “I take it he’s part of the team working with the device.”

“He is.”

“And you trust him?”

“More than the rest.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “I would like to meet this Dr. Jackson,” she wondered aloud.

“He and the device are in Cheyenne Mountain Complex near Colorado Springs,” Seto said.

Ishizu’s eyes widened, then quickly narrowed once more. “Is that why you chose to hold the first Battle City in Denver?” she asked shrewdly.

“Partially,” Seto said, stepping back and slipping his hands in his pockets. “The other reason is a certain white-haired maniac who formerly possessed the Eye.”

“Formerly?” Ishizu said warily. “Who has it now?”

“I don’t know,” Seto admitted. “I lost a Shadow Game to him.”

“You?” she gasped. “How?” Her eyes strayed to the Rod at his hip before turning back to his face. “I’ve only ever known you to lose Shadow Games to the Pharaoh.”

He did _not_ want to talk about that. As sharp as always, Ishizu pursed her lips and lifted her eyebrows in a silent demand for details. He huffed and crossed his arms, rejecting the demand. She sniffed.

“Fine. I won’t press,” she said, tucking her long, black hair over her shoulder. “I’ll just ask the Pharaoh later.” She smirked. “Or Shadi.”

Seto tried not to sulk at the threat. “Good luck. Shadi has refused to speak to me for years,” he said. “Something must have happened.”

Slowly, their conversation drifted back to Stargate Command and the mismatched yet effective SG-1 team. Ishizu was intrigued when she learned Teal’c had once been a First Prime before going rogue. By the time Seto checked his watch, he realized they had been standing in the deserted exhibit of a long-closed museum for over two hours.

It was only as they were finally walking towards the employee exit, that Ishizu pulled him aside and nodded for her bodyguards to go on without her. The air was brisk and the wind nipped at his ears as they stood in the lone patch of light from the security lights mounted on the wall. Ishizu pulled her scarf around her neck and over her head to keep out the cold and cover her Tauk.

Then she glanced warily at her waiting car, sighed, and turned back to Seto. “I will be competing in the Battle City Tournament,” she said, her words muffled by her scarf. “But I wanted to give you something before the tournament begins.”

Seto frowned curiously and he watched the former priestess reach into a hidden pocket of her dress and pull out a single Duel Monsters card. The card was sealed in a thick, protective plastic sleeve to prevent accidental bending or creasing. She hesitated only for a moment before holding the card out to him, face down.

“It was foolish of Pegasus to create them,” she said as Seto reached for the card. “But I _saw_ you wield this. Something tells me it will only suffer you or the Pharaoh to use it.”

Seto cautiously touched the card and stiffened when static electricity danced up his arm. Alarmed, he flinched back, still clutching the card, and turned it over to see what it was. He nearly dropped it in horror when he recognized the Divine-Beast’s image emblazoned on the front of the card.

An impossibly huge beast vaguely humanoid in shape filled the entire frame of the card. Massive blue wings the same shade as its skin were folded behind its back. Teeth as solid and powerful as unmoving stone gnashed together in what could pass as a terrible grin. A headdress of striped black and blue framed the Divine-Beast’s face lit by the unnatural glow of the god’s eyes.

For it _was_ a god. One of the Three Who Are One. Obelisk the Tormentor. The god of the Balance and Seto’s patron god. Just as Obelisk was also Isis’ patron god.  Six High Priests. Three Gods. One Pharaoh who wielded the Six and the Three and was answerable to the One.

Seto shuddered when a growl vibrated his Shadows and made him weak from the sheer power of it. It thrummed through his veins and made him feel small and vulnerable. Obelisk knew who and what he was and had chosen him as one of the two High Priests of the Balance. Seto would be forever grateful for that. It had granted him sanctuary when he needed it and started him on the path he walked now. He had no regrets choosing this path.

That being said, “Pegasus _made_ this?” he cried, trying desperately to keep his voice down. “He _bound_ a _god?!”_

Ishizu nodded grimly. “He did. I do not know how or why, but he did.” She glanced around them once more. “He buried them after he created them.”

“Them?” Seto paled. “He made _all_ of them?”

“As far as I know, only the Three,” Ishizu said. “The One is still free and untouched.”

Seto returned his gaze to the Divine-Beast in his hand. In his _hand._ “What has he done?” he murmured in horror.

“What had to be done,” Ishizu said. “Use Obelisk’s power to aid the Pharaoh, Set. I’ve _seen_ you do it.”

“I can’t just _channel_ a _god,”_ he whispered frantically. “I’m only a Priest. It would burn me alive.”

Ishizu shook her head. “This will not, I don’t think.” Her gaze dropped to the god card. “Whatever Shadowmancy Pegasus used to bind the Three created a buffer of sorts, as well. Unlike many of the cards I have interacted with, this god card was more aware than the rest.” She stretched out her hand and brushed her fingertips across the Divine-Beast’s image. “I doubt anyone but you or the Pharaoh could ever _truly_ summon the full power of the gods. But should you require my aid, I will help you.” He gaze locked on his. “But only if you help me.”

“You brother,” Seto said.

She nodded. “I will try to save him.” She looked away, sadness and loss distorting her face. “I will try. When- _If_ I should fail,” she lifted her eyes back to Seto’s, “I want you to try. If you can’t either,” she grimaced, “then kill him. I know he would prefer death to this cursed half-life.”

Seto winced but nodded. Suddenly, he heard a familiar chirp followed by feathers. He looked up and saw Neith land lightly on the railing of the walkway nearby. The hawk was just out of his reach, but well within her striking range.

“One of yours?” Ishizu asked.

“One of my eldest,” Seto said, nodding. “Ishizu, this is Neith.”

The hawk twittered but did nothing else. Ishizu’s expression softened. “Should you need assistance when next you spawn,” she said, “I will be ready.”

A weight he hadn’t even realized had settled on his shoulders lifted and Seto smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”


	31. Rules of Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kaiba declares Battle City 1 open, Yugi sees something unexpected, and Mokuba loves his big brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Apologies if the first half of this is too heavy in the technical side of the city-wide Battle City thing. Honestly, something on that scale would never fly nowadays without one _hell_ of a good plan and enough people and technology to enforce it. I also had to change a few things so it fit with the SG-1 world, aka the real world. Dramatic tower explosions is... Not okay. That's what backups are for. ^_~

“The rules are simple,” Kaiba said, his voice carrying across the huge ballroom seemingly without the aid of the microphone. “Each of you will be provided a Duel Disk which will allow you to access the Duel Monsters data and SolidVision technology through the KaibaCorp satellite network.”

Excited whispers raced from person to person, too low to be distracting but loud enough to sound like a rumble. The projector screens on either side of the stage flashed translations of Kaiba’s words in several languages and an ASL interpreter sat on the edge of the stage, her hands flashing quickly for a young deaf duelist sitting in the first row. Television cameras, professional photographers, and journalists lined the walls of the main ballroom in the Denver Convention Center eating up the KaibaCorp CEO’s words like starving animals. Yugi noticed them when he first took his seat near the front row close to the stage. He was hoping to use the crowd to escape their notice later. But right now, he needed to pay attention.

“With access to a Duel Disk comes a personalized passcode,” Kaiba continued. “The passcodes are automatically generated and come attached to the Duel Disks. It’s up to you to change it or keep it as you see fit. You’ll have to enter the code in order to activate your Duel Disk before every official duel. This is to manage the dueling so only those who paid to be a part of Battle City 1 can actively participate.”

His blue eyes narrowed and swept across the room. “Anyone caught cheating will be instantly disqualified and their Duel Disk deactivated remotely.” The flashes of cameras increased in frequency. “Kaiba Corporation does not tolerate cheaters. The Duel Disks have built-in cheating-prevention mechanisms which will automatically alert KaibaCorp personnel. Disqualified players will be required to surrender their Duel Disks to a uniformed KaibaCorp employee. Do _not_ try to leave and take a Duel Disk with you,” he warned. “The devices have GPS chips in them to track their location. We _will_ find you, confiscate the Duel Disk, and you will be charged with theft.”

The dull rumble of whispers rose in volume.

“The City of Denver has allowed this tournament access to everything it can offer,” Kaiba said. “In return, I expect you to treat this city with respect. You are Duelists, not third-rate thugs. Act like it.”

Yugi felt pride emanate from the spirit watching through his eyes and couldn’t help from return the sentiment. They were Duelists. They were going to win this tournament and be the best they could be. So many challenges to meet, so many competitors to duel, so many adventures to have. Both Yami and Yugi could hardly contain their excitement.

“Duels with Duel Disks will only be allowed to take place in this convention center, public parks, and other designated locations scattered throughout the city,” Kaiba continued. “The GPS units will prevent any duel activation to occur outside these designated areas. This goes for recreational duels as well. Recreational duels do not require your personal activation code to play but they will not count towards your final standing in the tournament. Only the outcomes of official duels will be counted.”

“Players who do not place in the finals but who were not disqualified for any reason,” Kaiba said, “will be allowed to keep their Duel Disks. The passcode lock on the Disks will be removed and no other duel from that Disk will be counted towards the tournament. You are free to stay and watch, play recreational duels in the designated areas, and explore the city. Those who _do_ qualify for the finals will be required to keep their Duel Disks with them.”

“That being said,” Kaiba swept his gaze across the room once more, “only eight duelists will qualify for the Quarter Finals and four for the Semi-Finals. Although the Semi-Finals and Finals will be hosted at the Mile High Stadium nearby, the Quarter Finals will take place on a blimp.” He looked directly at Jounouchi sitting next to Yugi. “Any duelist who succeeded in placing in the Quarter Finals will be required to report to the boarding location promptly.” He smirked and Yugi suspected he was missing something. “Arriving late results in an instant surrender.”

Yugi glanced surreptitiously at Jounouchi and frowned. Jounouchi was visibly shaking from pent up anger. The blonde’s brown eyes flashed and he was gnashing his teeth. Yami swore he heard a growl in there too. He leaned forward to see around Jounouchi and met Honda’s gaze. Apparently, both Honda and Anzu were just as confused by Jounouchi’s reaction as Yugi was.

 _:It would appear more happened during Jounouchi’s trip to this Stargate Command place than we first thought,:_ Yami wondered. He chuckled. _:Looks like it must have been fun.:_

 _:You have a very twisted sense of fun, Yami,:_ Yugi groaned, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Since this is the inaugural Battle City Tournament, there will be an ante-rule in place,” Kaiba said, drawing Yugi and Yami’s attention back to the stage. “Upon the completion of an official Battle City Tournament duel, the winner has the right to take the card of their choice from the loser’s deck.”

This made the whispers soar in volume and urgency. Cameras flashed and the tension in the room rose noticeably. Even Yami was suddenly paying much closer attention to Kaiba’s words than he had been. An ante rule. Yugi took a deep breath. That would certainly up the stakes. No pressure.

“This rule is optional for the winner of the duel,” Kaiba said, ignoring the hubbub from the audience. “However, should the winner choose to take advantage of this rule and the loser resists, this will be viewed as cheating and the loser will be disqualified from the tournament. Again, this rule is _optional._ Keep in mind, one duel loss does not automatically mean a loss for the tournament as a whole.”

That shut everyone up.

“Upon receiving the Duel Disk at the official start of the tournament, duelists will also receive a single Locator Card,” Kaiba said, holding up what looked like a transparent card the size of a Duel Monsters. Symbols on the clear card flashed in the stage lights. “These Locator Cards contain a map of the acceptable dueling locations in relation to the convention center, here,” he pointed to the star symbol in the center of the card. “A full map of the City of Denver is hanging outside this hall and paper copies of the same map will be included with your Duel Disk.”

“Keep these Locator Cards close.” Kaiba said with a smirk. “They are your means of advancing to the finals.” He set the card down on the podium in front of him. “In order to advance to the Quarter Finals, you must acquire eight Locator Cards from other duelists. If you lose a duel, you _must_ surrender your Locator card to the victor,” Kaiba said sternly. “If the victor chooses to utilize the ante-rule, the you must relinquish the card they choose as well. If you refuse, you will be considered a cheater and be disqualified.”

“However,” he added, “you _can_ win your Locator card and surrendered Duel Monsters card back at any time until the Quarter Finals. Official tournament duels will continue until the first eight duelists who gather eight Locator Cards present them to an official KaibaCorp employee. Once that happens, those duelist will be officially listed as Quarter Finalists and their Duel Disks will be fixed to no longer participate in other official duels until the Quarter Finals start. They will still be allowed to participate in recreational duels.”

Wow. That was a lot to take in. This was going to be a bit more complicated than Yugi thought.

 _:We can do this,:_ Yami murmured.

 _:I know we **can** ,: _Yugi agreed. _:I just feel like Kaiba’s making this overly complicated on purpose.:_

Yami snickered. _:Are you surprised?:_

_:…no.:_

“Now for security,” Kaiba said suddenly. “The Duel Disks will only be online from 7:00 AM local time to 8:00 PM local time. Outside these hours, the Duel Disks will be offline. This goes for both official and recreational duels. However, if a duel was already in progress when 8:00 PM passes, the duel will be allowed to continue to its completion unless both duelists agree to a draw. Draws will not result in either player surrendering their Locator Cards.”

“This rule will be strictly enforced by both KaibaCorp security and Denver City Police,” Kaiba said sternly. “This is for both your safety and security as well as the safety and security of everyone in this city.”

“That said,” Kaiba looked at the hundreds of people in the room, “you are the first duelists to participate in this Battle City. Play hard, play fair, and win. With this, I declare Battle City 1 open.”

The room erupted in cheers. The one hundred Battle City duelists and their families and friends from around the world stood and clapped and cheered and whistled. A few had been selected for their skills but most were here because they bought the tickets or won them. They were here to compete but they were also here because they loved the game itself.

It warmed Yugi’s heart to see so many people from so many countries all in one place because of their passion for one thing. Duel Monsters. The popularity of the game had truly skyrocketed since KaibaCorp’s holographic technology had been incorporated into it. It had reached a point where the game could barely be separated from the holograms anymore. A duel would always be a duel in Yugi’s heart, but he couldn’t deny the rush of excitement that thrilled through him when he saw a life-sized Dark Magician hover in attack mode between him and his opponent.

 _:You aren’t alone in that,:_ Yami said, feeding off of Yugi’s excitement and the excitement of the crowd.

These were fellow Duelists. They lived for the thrill of the game. Today may be just the first day, but Yugi knew from experience that this would be the busiest day. Duelists would be lining up at the registration desk to get their brand new Duel Disks and test them out. Yugi was guilty of the same thing. But he also knew the line would be _long_.

Good thing he wouldn’t be waiting in line alone. He grinned up at Jounouchi and Honda who were hugging each other and jumping up and down like the goofballs they were. Anzu was busy snapping pictures of her friends. Laughing at his friends’ antics, Yugi turned to grab his bottle of water on the floor by his feet and noticed a flash of white.

Curious, he looked up and was surprised to see Bakura Ryou kneeling on the seat in front of Yugi’s and resting his arms on the back of the chair. Bakura grinned and Yugi burst into a wide smile.

“Bakura!” he cried, wrapping his friend in a tight hug. “You’re here too?”

“What?” Honda gasped. “Bakura?”

“No freakin’ way!”

Yugi laughed when he felt Bakura cough in surprise from Jounouchi’s enthusiastic slap on the back. He stepped back to let his friend catch his breath, grinning when Anzu latched onto Bakura next. The British born boy blushed and shyly returned the hug.

“Yes, I’m here,” Bakura said, smiling bashfully when Anzu finally stepped back. “I won a ticket from a raffle.” He leaned forward so his arms rested on the back of the chair and chuckled. “I knew you’d be here so I kept my eye out. Are all of you competing?” he asked.

“No,” Anzu said. “I thought about it but decided against it. I’m here for the moral support and the city. If you don’t think I’m going to explore this place for the hottest arcades and lounges, you are dead wrong.”

Bakura laughed. “Just remember you aren’t of drinking age in this country,” he said, waving a finger at her. “Some bars might have age limits. I’m pretty sure some hotel patio bars have those even though they’re open to the public.”

Anzu visibly sulked at the news. “I didn’t think about that,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m not a drinker really. But I was hoping to find a good place to lounge and watch the tournament from up high.”

“That actually sounds like a good idea,” Honda said. “I bet the city looks amazing from high up. We’re already a mile high.”

“Yeah, and with the mountains right there,” Bakura pointed in one directions, “and a drop-off there,” he pointed in the opposite direction, “I bet the views are spectacular. Would you mind if I joined you if you find a place?”

“Not at all,” Anzu said, giving him a thumbs up. “Although,” he added looking around at the quickly emptying room, “I think we should probably go get in line before it gets too long.”

“Oh, right!” Bakura gasped, sitting up and stepping off the chair. “Want to stand in line with me?”

“Sure thing, Bakura,” Yugi said. Movement behind the albino drew his attention. “Kaiba.”

“Yugi,” the CEO said curtly. He spared a casual glance at Bakura, which abruptly became stunned shock followed quickly by outright hatred. “You,” he hissed.

“Kaiba?” Yugi asked, confused by Seto’s sudden shift in mood.

“Um, hello?” Bakura squeaked, leaning away and holding up his hands to provide a weak barrier between himself and Kaiba’s hateful glare. “I… I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry?”

 _:What is going on?:_ Yami wondered, moving closer to Yugi’s consciousness.

Sharp blue snapped to Yugi and something _tugged_ at him. Kaiba’s gaze flickered to Yugi’s Puzzle then back to Bakura. Then he deliberately stared at Bakura’s chest for several seconds before returning to the albino’s hazel eyes. Something shifted in Bakura’s gaze and Yugi _knew._

Bakura still had the Ring, and Kaiba _knew_ Bakura had the Ring. Kaiba knew and he was _not_ pleased with it. Jounouchi said Kaiba had kicked him out of the conference room at the SGC before talking about the second rebellion against the Goa’uld System Lords. Yugi didn’t know what was said during that time, be he could guess it directly involved Yami.

_“If he remembers too soon, he will die.”_

Yugi flinched away from the warning in those words. He may have promised to allow Kaiba to keep some information secret, but he couldn’t deny his worry, nagging curiosity, and desire to understand. He wanted Kaiba to be his friend and the first rule of friendship was to trust each other. Yugi trusted Kaiba. But he wondered if Kaiba trusted him.

“Kaiba,” Yugi said. When Kaiba didn’t move, Yugi huffed. “Kaiba,” he commanded.

Kaiba jolted as if he’d been stung and stared at him with barely concealed awe which was quickly smothered by annoyance. The CEO crossed his arms and aimed a vicious glare at Bakura who still seemed completely confused by the treatment.

“Leave him alone, Kaiba,” Yugi said sternly. “He’s my friend and he’s here to duel. If you have any disagreements, then duel it out or _talk_ it out later. Please?” he added, hoping it would ease the tension.

Blue eyes narrowed making it obvious how much Kaiba did _not_ want to do anything even _remotely_ as polite as all that. But Kaiba did not argue. Instead, he shot one last spiteful glare in Bakura’s direction before turning his full attention on Yugi.

“I expect to see you in the Finals, Yugi,” he said, ignoring Bakura’s presence entirely. “If you lose, then I will personally make you regret it.”

Now _that_ was a challenge.

Yami nudged him and Yugi willingly gave the spirit control. “You have such little faith,” Yami said through his mouth, a brazen smirk on his face. “Do you doubt my skill?”

“Lose to anyone but me and I will,” Kaiba countered, something igniting in the depths of his blue eyes. “But if the mutt is somehow late to the Quarter Finals, don’t blame me.”

“Fuck. You,” Jounouchi snarled. Then a smirk appeared on the blonde’s face. “Your highness,” he added slyly.

Yugi blinked and even Yami seemed caught off guard by the offended shock on Kaiba’s face. Jounouchi stood tall and planted both of his fists on his hips.

“I will destroy you,” Kaiba hissed.

“That’s what you think, queenie,” Jounouchi taunted, waving a finger at the CEO.

Both Yami and Yugi stared in surprise. Kaiba’s cheeks were… Was that a _blush?!_ Ra have mercy, it _was._

And that was an odd expression on Bakura’s face. Oh. He didn’t know anything yet. Better cut this short before either Kaiba or Jounouchi accidentally said too much.

“That’s enough, you two,” Yami said. Only Yugi would ever know how _very_ hard the spirit was trying not to laugh at their friends’ rivalry. “Save the attitude for the duel.”

“Sure thing,” Jounouchi chirped victoriously.

“I’ll make you eat those words, you mutt,” Kaiba snarled before turning to leave.

But not before he directed a dark glare at Bakura.

“Err… Did I do something to annoy him?” Bakura asked, obviously caught between confusion and embarrassment.

“Naw,” Jounouchi said, slinging an arm around the albino’s shoulders. “He’s just butthurt that I can finally meet his verbal assaults head-on.”

That brought a small smile to Bakura’s face. “I did notice that,” he said. “Queenie? Really? What’s that about?”

Jounouchi tapped the side of his nose. “Let’s just say I got some dirt on our resident rich boy,” he said in a stage whisper.

That brought forth true laughter. “I see,” Bakura said with a happy smile. “Well, in that case I won’t take offense. Let’s go get in line.”

“Anyone want any drinks first?” Anzu said as they worked their way out from the row of chairs. “I can go get them while you guys wait in line. Just give me the cash.”

“How do I know you won’t snitch?” Honda demanded suspiciously.

The sound of Anzu’s fist striking the back of Honda’s head echoed in the ballroom.

* * *

Something was bothering his big brother. Therefore, by extension, something was bothering Mokuba. Seto had been unusually tight-lipped since that suspicious call to their hotel room several days ago. He hadn’t told Mokuba anything and hadn’t slept well either. Mokuba had woken up several times to find his big brother standing on the balcony or staring listlessly at his laptop or at an odd new Duel Monsters card he’d acquired recently.

Come to think of it, Seto had gotten that card around the same time as he’d met that suspicious woman. When Seto had gotten back to the hotel after his rendezvous at the museum, it had been late. Mokuba waited up for his big brother and had known something good had happened when he saw the _smile_ on Seto’s face.

Seto had embraced Mokuba and held him tightly for several minutes without speaking. He hadn’t said anything, just held on to Mokuba and breathed. It wasn’t until Seto leaned back and actually looked Mokuba in the eye that the happiness faded to worry.

Something was bothering his big brother and Mokuba would find out what it was. If Mokuba could help his brother in any way, he would. He respected Seto’s right to privacy, but he also knew when his brother needed support. Mokuba didn’t need or want details. He just wanted to know what he could do to help.

The trouble was, Mokuba was beginning to think _he_ might be the problem. It was subtle, but noticeable. Mokuba had lived with his big brother for years and had learned how to read between the lines and see the emotions Seto tried so hard to hide. Because of that, Mokuba noticed how every time Seto looked at him in the past few days, his gaze had become sad and distant.

Had he done something to hurt his big brother? Was it something he said maybe? Seto told him everything. Why the secrets now?

He opened his eyes and wasn’t surprised to see his big brother standing on the hotel room balcony. The bedroom was dark. The only light illuminating Seto’s face was from the buildings of downtown Denver. Mokuba tightened his fist around the bed sheet and fought back the tears. He didn’t want to hurt his big brother. He loved him.

A strange sound like wings flapping startled him from his thoughts just as a white and gray hawk landed on the railing of the balcony. Mokuba’s eyes widened in awe. A hawk! Wow! It was so close. He was afraid to move in case he scared it away, even thought the bird probably couldn’t see him through the darkness of the room.

Mokuba’s awe became surprise when Seto held out his arm and the hawk willingly hopped up onto it. The bird twittered and made musical chirping sounds as if it was talking to Seto. It even nibbled gently at the finger ruffling its chest feathers. It flapped its wings and hopped, stretching its neck out so it could nibble Seto’s chin.

It was so affectionate and magical Mokuba could hardly believe his eyes. Was he still dreaming? Was he half asleep? Just in case, he squeezed his eyes shut and pinching himself. Opening his eyes, he knew it was real. Seto was still standing on the balcony in the middle of the night with a hawk on his arm.

Then the bird’s eyes glowed and Mokuba again questioned if he was dreaming. If he wasn’t then-

Seto’s eyes glowed too. It was brief but bright and beautiful. Mokuba’s breath caught. Instantly, he shut his eyes and deliberately shifted on the bed. Footsteps padded softly across the rug floor from the open balcony windowed door to where Mokuba slept on the bed. Mokuba’s heart was racing in his chest but he somehow managed to keep his breathing slow and shallow.

He wasn’t _afraid_. Not really. He just didn’t want to get caught. He knew he’d seen something unnatural, something magical. Something Seto had never told him before. It was Seto’s secret and Mokuba would keep it. Even if that meant pretending he didn’t know Seto was magical.

Maybe Seto was a yokai or mononoke. It made sense. The way Mokuba found him when they first met, Seto’s near supernatural ability to out-think and outmaneuver just about anyone, and his ability to survive Yugi’s curse. Twice. Mokuba wasn’t stupid. After Seto’s first run in with Yugi’s curse, Mokuba had done some digging and discovered his bother was the only one to recover from the curse and then survive a second.

Seto was special. He was supernatural. His eyes _glowed._

Long, familiar fingers brushed stray strands of Mokuba’s wild black hair behind his ear with a tenderness Seto rarely exhibited. There was a soft flutter of wings as Mokuba felt Seto’s fingers continue to thread through his hair, working out the tangles. It made Mokuba’s heart clench with affection. He loved his big brother so much it hurt.

“If anything happens to me, Neith,” Seto whispered in soft Japanese, “watch over him. Protect him. He’s more important than me.”

What? No, big brother.

The hawk made a soft chirrup sound and Mokuba fought the urge to cry. He wasn’t more important than Seto. His big brother was important too. If something happened to Seto…

If something happened to Seto…

Mokuba could help himself. He looped his fingers around his big brother’s wrist and pulled Seto’s hand close to his chest, clutching it protectively. He wouldn’t lose his brother. He’d rather die.

He didn’t relax until he felt his brother’s body heat wrap around him underneath the covers. He wouldn’t let himself fall asleep until he was sure Seto was asleep. Only then did he open his eyes again.

Almost immediately, he noticed the hawk perched on the table watching him. It cocked its head to the side and regarded Mokuba silently. It was childish and selfish but Mokuba couldn’t find it within himself to feel guilty as he snuggled closer to Seto.

“I can’t lose him,” he whispered. “Please,” he looked at the silent hawk, “don’t let anything happen to my big brother.”

The hawk remained silent, fluffing its feathers and shaking its head before hopping to the edge of the table. It spread its wings and flew to the balcony railing. It was the strangest thing, but Mokuba would swear the bird understood him. The bird was gone by the time he woke up in the morning, but Seto was still there.

Things weren’t perfect, but that was okay. Big brother was here.


	32. A Ring, a Spirit, and a Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bakura plots and gains an unwilling ally with a strong-minded host in the process while Walter thinks about his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** And Bakura took over this chapter. Marik also makes his debut, in more ways than one.

Well, it would seem not everything was going as smoothly as Bakura expected. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined the infamous High Priest Set himself would still be alive with all of his memories intact. He’d assumed Seto Kaiba was just another reincarnation with no attachment to the past beyond physical appearance. The latter could still be the case, but Bakura doubted it. This changed things. At least now Bakura knew for certain where the infernal Rod was. He spat at the ground in restrained rage.

Tucking his hands in his pockets, the thief leaned against the dark alleyway wall and considered his options. As much as he hated to admit it, he was missing some memories in places. He remembered enough to be furious and _crave_ revenge for the crimes of the Pharaoh, but he couldn’t remember the Pharaoh’s name. That was the key he needed to unlock the true power of the Millennium Puzzle and use the seven Items to resurrect his master. Only then would he have his memories fully restored and wield enough power to thoroughly rid the universe of the false gods.

Set may have the others fooled, not a difficult feat honestly, but the snake would never fool him. He was the Bandit King of old. He had personally raided the tombs and prized storehouses of the false gods for years before the Pharaoh and his plucky band of priests decided to step in. It had been _him_ who discovered the bitch queen’s store of information and begun using what he learned to harass the Jaffa and that impertinent idiot Heru’ur. What the bird-brained snake expected to find from the stash in Kul Elna, Bakura could only imagine.

At least the Pharaoh’s rebellion had done a decent job distracting Heru’ur while Bakura could finish his work in peace. Don’t get him started on that weapon either. Bakura never did find out what that was, but he remembered the terrible sensation of the solid, immovable earth _shaking_ beneath his feet and orange lightning arcing across the sky before it stopped as abruptly as it began.

Such power. He _wanted_ it. It was useless in those idiots’ hands anyway. Who in their right mind just _drove away_ an enemy like those snakes when you could just as easily wipe them from existence? Mercy had no place in war. Mercy was how more people died. The foolish Pharaoh learned that the hard way.

Unfortunately, Bakura suffered a similar fate. Now he could only remember catches of things. He remembered Kul Elna, but he couldn’t remember _where_ Kul Elna was or the details of what he’d been working so hard on. All he knew for sure was that he needed all seven Millennium Items to succeed in getting what he needed.

If that foolish snake of a priest remembered him as well as he seemed to, then Bakura would have to watch his steps _very_ carefully. His shy landlord had already ingratiated himself in the reborn Pharaoh’s circle of friends and earned himself some trust there, so that was something. The priest might remember Bakura, but Bakura wondered if Set knew Bakura remembered _him._ If he continued to play ignorant and clueless, then he might skate by unnoticed for a little while.

It wasn’t a permanent fix by any means, but Bakura was in for the long game. He knew better than to risk pulling something as dramatic as a full resurrection and wield a weapon of mass destruction in the middle of a large city. He may not care much for the idiots currently populating Earth, but they were better than the false god snakes. _Anything_ was better than them.

No problem. He would continue to bide his time and do what needed to be done. He already had the Ring and now the Eye. He knew where the Rod and the Puzzle were and his Ring told him the Tauk was somewhere in the city, but he had no earthly idea where the Key and the Scales were. Sometimes the Ring would start to flail and point insistently in a direction before abruptly going unresponsive. It was _massively_ annoying.

But Bakura was patient. Patience helped him learn about the serpentine false god embedded among the Pharaoh’s High Priests. Anyone who willingly chose to fight alongside a snake against _other_ snakes was just as guilty as the false gods in Bakura’s opinion. Still, letting those imbeciles take care of things first turned out to be a wise choice.

Until that infernal Pharaoh killed him.

Fuming, Bakura clenched his fist.

“Bad mood?”

Straightening from his slouch, the thief turned to the idiot who dared intrude on his personal alone time. These moments were hard to come by.

The person was young, perhaps a year or so older than Ryou Bakura, but the lines around his eyes were harsher, crueler. Intrigued, Bakura grinned, flashing his teeth.

“I’m plotting a murder,” he said. “does that answer your question?”

Instead of the looking disgusted or horrified, the stranger smirked. “You too?” he asked, propping a fist on his hip. “And here I was thinking I was the only one.”

Bakura blinked. Oh ho? Someone else with sense of humor. How exciting.

“Really?” he purred. “How do you prefer to do it?”

The stranger shrugged carelessly. “Poison is always fun,” he said, waving a hand out. “But I find beating a person until their very will is crush to be much more satisfying.”

Bakura chuckled. “How droll.”

“Oh? Then how do you prefer to do it?”

He grinned viciously. “A single blow of overwhelming force.”

The stranger stepped forward so the light from a nearby streetlight hit his face. Aside from his strikingly bleach blonde hair, the man had Middle Eastern features and light colored eyes. It hard to distinguish their exact color in this light, but they did catch Bakura’s attention. There was a hard edge to them that was noticeably absent in most people’s gaze these days except for Priest Set. Intriguing.

“You look like you want something,” Bakura said, pushing away from the wall. The Millennium Ring shifted on his chest, the dark gold gleaming eerily. “I doubt I can give it you. Go pick on some other poor pathetic creature. I’ll knife you before you try anything with me.”

The stranger didn’t seem to be paying his words much attention. Their eyes had locked on the Ring with intense focus. Interestingly enough, there was _recognition_ in the stranger’s gaze. Well now.

“You know what this is, don’t you?” Bakura purred, tracing a finger over the golden Eye of Ra in the center of the Millennium Ring. “Now how can that be?” Approaching the stranger, the thief kept a sharp eye on the person’s face, noting every twitch and nuance of emotion. “I happen to know that everyone who once knew about these Items is long dead. Well,” he amended, thinking of that accursed Set, “almost everyone.”

That jostled the person’s nerves. Pale eyes Bakura now suspected were a shade of blue perhaps flickered to Bakura’s brown warily.

“I know someone who has… something like that,” the stranger said, caution in his words and eyes.

“Do you now?” Bakura said, coming to stand directly in front of the stranger. “And who might that be?”

The person’s gaze abruptly hardened. “Why should I tell you?” he demanded. “It’s not like you can give me anything in exchange.”

“I can give you your life,” Bakura offered. A very generous offer, if he did say so himself. “I hear that’s all the rage these days. Hard to do things when you’re dead.”

Suddenly, something unfamiliar poked at his mind. Intruder! Furious at the invasion, Bakura caught the tendril of thought with his Shadows and twisted it. To his surprise, the person in front of him abruptly contorted, gripped his temples, and cried out in pain.

“Well, well,” he purred, pleased with his find. “What have we here? A telepath.” Oh what fun. “Didn’t know a connection like that went two ways, did you?” He cackled madly. “You brat. Did you really think you could look into my mind without me noticing?”

The person flailed out with a clawed hand and caught the gold of the Millennium Ring as he fell to his knees. Oh yes, Bakura definitely liked this view much better. He placed a single finger under the stranger’s chin and lifted his face so they could see eye to eye.

“However amusing this is,” and it was incredibly amusing, “I’m honestly a bit jet lagged. Since you seem to not only know what my Ring is but know someone else with a similar Item, then I think I’ll just take you along with me. You wouldn’t happen to have a hotel room nearby, would you?”

He released his hold on the person’s mind enjoying the way the person slumped to the ground gasping for breath.

“Or you could tell me here, I suppose,” Bakura continued. “Kneeling like the bitch you are.”

Much to Bakura’s surprise, the person reached up and grasped his shirt. Purple - _purple_ \- eyes stared up at him wide and terrified. “What did you do?” the person pleaded. “I don’t know what you did but _thank you!”_

“What?” Bakura said flatly, eyeing the offending hands in disgust. “Let go of me filthy bitch.”

“Don’t leave me alone!” the person cried, honest to god _tears_ streaming down his tan face. “Please. Please, I don’t have much time before he comes back. You have the Ring. Do you know about the Goa’uld?”

His hand reacted before Bakura could consciously command it, snapping out and wrapping around the person’s throat seconds from choking him. He knelt and studied the person’s teary, terrified eyes and cursed colorfully.

“You’re a host,” he spat.

“Can you kill it?” the person pleaded between sobs. “Please. I can’t keep control for much longer. It’s already trying to come back.”

Bakura hesitated. “No, unfortunately,” he admitted, much to his reluctance. “Not without killing you.”

“I have to live!” the person said fiercely, a fire in their violet eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I know things that the Goa’uld _can’t_ know. I’m the _only_ one who knows.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Bakura demanded.

“It knows about the Items!” the person hissed, grasping Bakura by the hair which _ouch!_ that hurt damn it. “The Chappa’ai.” He gulped, obviously fighting for control. “You can’t let it go through the Chappa’ai. It’ll tell the others and they’ll… come back.”

Violet rolled back into the person’s head and the body slumped limply in Bakura’s grasp. Not expecting the sudden weight, the thief staggered. Unfortunately, that was when the serpent inside the stranger’s head woke up, violet flashing a bright white-gold.

Hatred coursed through Bakura’s veins at the sight just as a hoard of questions raced through his mind.

“Back awake, I see,” he said, cutting off whatever the snake was going to say.

He hated the godforsaken snakes. But he had just been presented with an opportunity by a very brave and strong-minded host. Who was he to deny that?

“It would seem we have something in common,” Bakura said, preening at the startled expression on the face of the Goa’uld’s host. “We both wear someone else as a meatsuit.”

Eyes flashed gold. “You are no Goa’uld,” the snake hissed, its voice echoing oddly.

“Fortunately, no,” Bakura agreed. “But I do have a host. Well, more like landlord, but you get the idea. The important thing is, you know what _this_ is,” he said, pointing to his Millennium Ring. “I could just kill you for knowing that. But seeing as your hold on your host is so pathetically weak that I could force you back with just a bit of telepathy myself,” he grinned at the offended snarl, “I find I’m more interested in _you_. Why are you here, little snake?”

“I am a god,” the snake growled, breaking Bakura’s hold with unnatural strength and staggering back. “I do not answer to you.”

“True,” Bakura said, choosing to remain where he was. “But now I know about you and I know what you are. You’ll have to kill me.” He smirked. “If you can.”

“I can,” the Goa’uld declared.

Bakura scoffed. “Right,” he said, rolling his eyes and examining his fingernails. “And I happen to like smelling daisies.” He flicked a hangnail away and studied the Goa’uld disdainfully. “You’re hold on your host’s mind is tenuous, little snake. You must be young and inexperienced. That means you were either spawned recently or-”

“I was imprisoned,” it spat.

“Oh, is that all?” Bakura taunted. “I was murdered.” The snake scoffed. “It’s true,” the thief said. “My murdered spirit possesses this poor young man whenever I see fit to do whatever I see fit. And he never remembers anything.” He shrugged. “It’s quite convenient.”

“You lie.” It sounded more like the Goa’uld was attempting to convince himself than stating fact. Good.

“I do,” Bakura agreed. “Often. But at the moment, I find I don’t need to lie.” He smirked. “You know about the Millennium Items. I’m guessing you’re just _itching_ to go through the Chappa’ai-” the snake stiffened at the familiar word “-and tell your fellow snakes. What if I told you I knew where it was?”

“Tell me where it is!” the snake demanded,  charging him and drawing a knife from his belt and slashing at the thief. Pathetic.

Bakura just cackled. “Now why would I do that?” he taunted, dodging the clumsy slashes. “What would I possibly get out of it? I’ve already made it clear you are _nothing,”_ he caught the snake’s wrist when the Goa’uld slashed again, looped the serpent’s arm around behind its back, and twisted, snickering at the pained cry, “compared to me.”

The snake wriggled in his grasp and it was _so_ satisfying. All he had to do was twist just a bit harder and- The snake screamed. It was music to Bakura’s ears. Definitely an inexperienced snake. Hm? He sniffed. An inexperienced snake with good taste in shampoo too apparently.

“Now that we’ve established which one of us is the _real_ one in charge,” Bakura whispered directly in the snake’s ear, “I have a proposition for you. Agree and we might just get along and work to the same goal. Refuse, and I’ll kill you right here, right now. And while I promise it won’t be messy, I also promise it won’t be quick or painless. Unlike you, _I_ actually have experience with assassinations.”

The struggled eased, though the snake still wriggled as it arched its host’s back and stood on its tip-toes in an attempt to ease the pain in its arm.

“That’s better,” Bakura said against the snake’s ear. “Now, I happen to be a collector of sorts. You know about the Millennium Items. Do you know how many there are?” The snake nodded. “Out loud, snake,” Bakura said, twisting the captive arm and earning him a staistfying whimper.

“S-seven,” the snake gasped.

“Good.” Bakura eased his grip to something the snake could stand. “Help me collect all seven of them, and I’ll take you to the Chappa’ai. Behave and I _might_ even introduce you to someone.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “You aren’t the only Goa’uld in this tournament.”

This was going to be so much fun.

* * *

“Receiving GDO transmission,” Walter reported, waiting for the computer to recognize the encrypted code and identify the incoming traveler. The screen flashed green with the identity. “It’s the Tok’ra, sir,” he said, looking up at Col. O’Neill.

The man nodded. “Open the iris,” he commanded, patting Walter on the shoulder. Then he glanced at his companion and smiled. “Maybe it’s dad,” he teased.

Major Carter’s smile was bright. “Maybe,” she said, hurrying out of the control room to the ‘Gate room below with O’Neill right on her heels.

Walter shook his head. He would probably never understand those two. It was so painfully obvious they cared about each other. Heck, the Dr. Carter from the other side of the Quantum Mirror had been _married_ to that world’s Col. O’Neill. Watching from outside SG-1’s inner circle really was a bit awkward for him sometimes.

Shaking his head, he turned to the Stargate. The glowing event horizon rippled before revealing three Tok’ra operatives. Walter didn’t know two of them, but he did recognize the man in the center. Martouf and his symbiote Lantash. Not surprising. But it was odd to not see General Jacob Carter with the group. Jacob and his symbiote Selmak were usually the ones who visited Earth since Jacob was from here and acted as Earth’s official liaison with the Tok’ra.

Hopefully this wasn’t a bad omen.

Walter couldn’t hear anything since they were speaking too softly, but he could read their faces. Martouf was definitely worried about something and whatever it was, it affected the major too. Something must have happened to Jacob. Walter watched as the small group left the ‘Gate Room and wondered silently what could possibly have happened.

He could think of way too many ideas, none of them good. Jacob couldn’t be dead. Walter was sure Maj. Carter would have reacted much more emotionally if that had been the case. The next option was Jacob being captured. That was reasonable, but not good. Depending on which Goa’uld was responsible for Jacob’s capture, the outcomes could vary from healthy if annoyed and in jail on board a Goa’uld mothership to tortured and near death.

Not for the first time in the past week, Walter’s thoughts were dragged back to the words of Wheeler, Set’s First Prime. According to Wheeler, Set had been tortured while under Setesh’s control. Normally, the thought of another Goa’uld suffering at the hands of a System Lord was reason to grin. But in this case, it made Walter uneasy.

What Wheeler implied had been done to Set…

Walter shook his head, deliberately dismissing those thoughts. Dwelling on them would do him no good. Besides, it was long over, Setesh was dead, and Wheeler didn’t seem to hate being First Prime all that much. Though, granted, Walter never expected to see a First Prime try to punch their Goa’uld in the face before either. The world was just full of surprises.

Footsteps in the corridor broke him out of his musings and he turned to see all of SG-1 and the Tok’ra file past him and up the steps to the conference room. This was serious. He waited patiently for news, double-checking his math before entering another line of code into his computer to pass the time.

It was an hour before Walter received the order to dial the ‘Gate with a new set of coordinates. General Hammond, Major Carter, and Colonel O’Neill stood in the control room behind Walter watching the chevrons lock in place.

“The Tel’tak we’ll be taking to Netu is waiting for us on Vorash.”

Walter glanced over his shoulder to see the Tok’ra Martouf had joined them. The guy walked quietly.

“There is no Stargate on Netu,” Martouf continued. “Anyone who goes there is dropped off by ship.”

“Now that’s something I would’ve liked to’ve known _before_  we reached this point,” the colonel said dryly.

“We thought it would be a good idea to give you all the details on the flight to Netu,” Martouf said.

“Ah!” O’Neill said sharply, cutting off Martouf’s excuse. “Now see? That leaves me in a position to be surprised. I don’t like surprises.”

The last chevron activated and Walter announced, “Chevron seven locked,” just as the wormhole engaged with the trademark fwoosh.

“Major?” General Hammond said, halting the group as they headed out of the control room. Walter looked up too. “You will bring you father back safely. I know you will.”

So Walter was right. Jacob had been captured. He winced in sympathy.

Major Carter hesitated, obviously unsure but afraid to voice her doubts.

“Yes we will, sir,” O’Neill said instead. The confidence in his voice and stance a sharp counter to Major Carter’s concern and Martouf’s quiet worry. “Carter? Let’s go get Carter.”

The major’s lips twitched but she didn’t smile as she turned and followed her commanding officer. Walter pressed his lips together as he watched the Tok’ra and his fellow airmen join Dr. Jackson and Teal’c in the ‘Gate Room before they all went through the wormhole.

Walter was a father. He loved his sons. He would do anything for them. But while a part of him hoped that his sons would come rescue him if he was ever captured, a larger part of him prayed they stayed as far the hell away as they possibly could. If anything ever happened to them, Walter would never forgive himself. He could only imagine what Major Carter was going through right now.

At least it seemed better than Wheeler’s family life. With a sigh, Walter shut down the Stargate and rubbed his forehead.

“Sir, I’d like permission to call my family,” Walter said, turning in his chair to face the general.

The elderly general gave him a worried look. “Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes sir. I just…” He glanced back at the empty ‘Gate Room. “I just need to hear my sons’ voices.”

The old Texan nodded in understanding. “Permission granted.”

“Thank you sir.”


	33. A "Good" Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a normal, happy day goes to hell in a handbasket. Or, in this case, a backpack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I'm so sorry for the delay. Free time is hard to come by right now. I promise I'm not giving up. I just don't have much time to write. But I'm defintiely continuing this. And, surprise surprise, Walter "Chevron Guy" Davis is definitely going to end up playing a bigger role in this than I originally thought.

Seto glared at the screen in mounting frustration. He really needed his personal setup back in Japan to get to the bottom of this. He knew the KaibaCorp IT department was well equipped and skilled, but sometimes Seto felt his fingers _itching_ with the desire to _handle_ the problem _personally._ He couldn’t right now. He was stuck across the Pacific with just his laptop and the protected Internet connection and technology on the KaibaCorp airship his personal helicopter.

Besides, times had changed. Even if Seto did manage to figure out who was cheating in his tournament and why, he couldn’t act personally without the potential for a backlash. He would have to report it to the proper authorities and ban the individual players for life. He did miss the eras long gone when he could get rid of trouble makers without any threat of backlash.

Which led him to another problem. There were more than a few cheaters and the _manner_ in which they were cheating led Seto to believe this wasn’t the act of an individual. Rather, it was an organized ring of cheaters. Why? What could possibly make so many people work together to cheat in a card game competition of all things?

The level of detail and efficiency was meticulous and impressed even Seto. The cheaters were using counterfeit Duel Monsters cards which were good enough to fool _his_ SolidVision Duel Disks. That was a problem he needed to fix as quickly and as thoroughly as possible. “Was this solely an attempt to de-legitimize the security of KaibaCorp technology? Or was this just a bunch of overly enthusiastic Duel Monsters players who were obsessed with winning at any cost, even by dishonorable means?

Possibly a combination of both?

He rested a hand on his little brother’s shoulder. “Well done, Mokuba,” he said, squeezing the young boy’s shoulder encouragingly.

Mokuba looked up at him in surprise before bursting into a brilliant smile. “Thank’s nii-sama,” he said, puffing his chest out proudly. “So, how do we want to handle this? There’re a lot of cheaters.”

Seto hummed an agreement. “I’ll look into it,” he said eventually. “I want to watch one of their duels in person if I can.”

“You want to see how they’re cheating,” the boy said, nodding. “Gotcha. I’ve made a program that’ll set off an alarm if one of those counterfeit cards is played and tell you where to go.”

“Good.”

He still needed two more Locator Cards to qualify for the Quarter Finals. Since he was the host of the tournament as well as a participant _and_ still the CEO of KaibaCorp, Seto had to schedule times to duel. His most recent opponent had been one of the first to challenge him. He’d dismissed the challenge until the idiot began name-calling KaibaCorp. Seto put the idiot in his place quickly and efficiently after that.

All it took was a single strike from his god card. It had taken a lot of convincing to actually use it. Ishizu had assured him of the protections placed on the card to prevent serious injury to the Duelist wielding it. But both she and Seto knew the devastation Obelisk the god of Destruction was capable of, protection or no protection. The instant Seto summoned it in battle, he _knew_ he would win. He also knew he was playing with fire. Or, more accurately, he was playing with lightning.

At least he had some experience with that part courtesy of the Goa’uld Isis and her tinkering. Licking his lips, he straightened and considered his next actions. It was the second day of the tournament and he needed another duel to both keep him busy and to keep his mind sharp. Preferably a good duel. Quick duels had their place, but they were bori-

“Nii-sama?”

Startled by his brother’s voice, Seto blinked and focused his attention on his little brother. But Mokuba wasn’t looking at him. The boy’s gaze was locked on the map of Denver and the blinking lights of the Duelists glowing on the laptop screen. Pulling his laptop closer to his body, Mokuba leaned forward and pointed at a small cluster of dots on the center of the screen in a park near the south side of the city. One dot was flashing rapidly before changing from cool blue to a steady bright red with white rings flashing around it. An accompanying ring burst from the speakers.

“It’s the emergency beacon!” Mokuba cried, quickly pulling out his keyboard to rapidly type out a series of commands.

In response, the screen zoomed in on the emergency beacon and readouts filled with details of the Duel Disk and their corresponding Duelist appeared next to each dot in the vicinity. Seto hissed when he recognized the names.

Damn it. He’d been having a good day too. Honestly, could the Geek Squad stumble around for a single week without having to be rescued?

“Isono," he called to the helicopter pilot, "Head towards Washington Park. We might have a situation there."

"Yes sir," the man replied, obediently turning the helicopter towards the new heading.

"Do you want me to call the police?” Mokuba asked innocently.

Seto paused halfway through standing from his seat to shoot his brother a look. He was somewhat mortified to see the teasing grin on Mokuba's face. The brat bounced his eyebrows tauntingly at him and Seto rolled his eyes in response before getting to his feet. Mokuba knew when something needed to be dealt with without the police involvement. If it involved the Pharaoh and his gang of misfits? Then entangling the police in this matter would only complicate things further.

He needed a drink.

* * *

Jounouchi was _not_ having a good day. Oh boy. Oh _hell_ no he most definitely was _not_ having a very good day! _Shit!_ _Fuck!_

“Joey!”

Right! Right. Calm down. Calm down! Breathe. Just… Whoo. Deep breath. His head hurt. Everything was blurred and fuzzy and he felt like he was fighting a giant or running a marathon or… Or…

No. Oh god no. He didn’t want to go back there. He was losing time. Yugi was _right there!_ And Jounouchi had a terrible feeling that he was _hurting_ his friend.

Something hard, powerful, and unforgiving slammed into his mind once more and-

* * *

Yugi stared at his best friend in horror. It was his worst nightmare. Jounouchi was so close but Yugi couldn’t reach him and time was running out. Yugi’s violet eyes glanced down at the timer peeking out of the top of the backpack. Just a few minutes left. If Yugi could keep Jounouchi and whoever or whatever was mind-controlling his best friend busy for just a few more minutes, then maybe Honda could get back here with Kaiba.

Honestly, Yugi had been hoping this would be just a regular, average tournament with nothing interesting going on except dueling. It had been Jounouchi who first caught wind of the cheaters after watching a duel in which one of the Monsters looked, well, off. But without any proof, they had nothing to go on. And anyway, the person lost the duel so it ended up not being too big of a deal.

The day had even started off uneventful, lulling them into a false sense of security. After lunch, Yugi and his friends decided to visit a local arcade. Honda and Jounouchi had been beside themselves with excitement. None of them had ever been to an American arcade before. Anzu hadn’t been as impressed, until she found the competitive dancing game. After the arcade, they had all stuck together, wandering around the parks in the city looking for duels and wondering about the number of trashcans in public spaces.

They hadn’t separated. They’d stayed together, kept an eye on one another, hadn’t spoken to anyone who looked or felt creepy… They hadn’t done _anything wrong!_ They had plans! They were going to get dinner and hang out at the rooftop bar in their hotel. They might not be of drinking age, but there was a pool up there and cokes and snacks and music and friends. They hadn’t done _anything!_

Jounouchi and Anzu just _changed!_

And now Yugi was dueling his best friend with a bomb sitting in a backpack by Jounouchi’s feet counting down with thirty minutes to go until they all died. Worse, Anzu was just standing right next to Jounouchi with the bomb trigger in her hand, thumb hovering still and unmoving over the button. Yugi could only pray Honda found another duelist and activated their Duel Disk’s emergency beacon. The one time Yugi tried to activate his, Anzu had stopped breathing and collapsed to the ground gasping and twitching. She only stopped and gotten back to her feet, calm, cool and unfeeling, when Yugi moved his hand away from the beacon, dropped to his knees, and pleaded to whatever power was controlling his friends to _STOP!_

 _:I can’t_ _. Yami, I can’t! He’s my best friend,:_ Yugi cried as he struggled to see his cards through his panic and tears. He needed to play to stall, not to play to hurt or defeat. If Jounouchi’s life points dropped to zero, Yugi didn’t know what would happen. But one glance at Anzu and he suspected.

 _:We have to. Together. Trust in Honda,:_ Yami said fiercely, unseen hands gripping Yugi’s shoulders and giving the boy the physical support he needed right now. _:He’ll find a way to contact Kaiba and we’ll have more help. In the meantime, keep trying to pull Jounouchi out of that monster’s grip. You’re doing well. You’re not alone.:_

No. He wasn’t. Yami was here in his mind and by his side. They were dueling as one entity like they had ever since Duelist Kingdom. Anzu was _right there_ and even though she was out of reach, Yugi knew somewhere in her mind she was praying for him. Jounouchi may not be able to hear him, but Yugi would be _damned_ it he let something like a bomb keep him from saving his friends. All he could do right now was duel, keep Jounouchi busy, keep Anzu in sight, and keep his unknown enemy’s focus locked on him.

Honda needed all the time Yugi could buy him. He just hoped his friend didn’t take too long.

* * *

He didn’t go to Denver very often. It wasn’t the sort of place he considered a vacation hotspot. He preferred camping in the woods, even if his sons had disagreements about the how, where, and why. At least his wife had his back. Charlotte had the patience of an angel but the ability to shut down arguments like Teal’c could shut down idiots. God, he loved her.

He needed this. He didn’t have time off as often as he would prefer, but he knew the risks of his job. Knowing what was out there and what it would do if it got its claws on what he loved most was the reason why it was worth the risk. Seeing Maj. Carter come back through the Stargate with her very injured team after fighting to free her father from the hands of that Devilish psycho snake just further solidified his nerve. But it did push him to requesting this time off to be with his family. Even if they voted to spend the next few days in Denver instead of Durango.

Andrew was still picking at his shirt where he’d spilled a little bit of ice cream on it but otherwise seemed to be enjoying himself. Mark, on the other hand, seemed more interested in the people running around with bulky gaming devices on their arms than the food in front of him. Walter had been trying his hardest to avoid answering his son’s questions about the devices, but it was getting increasingly difficult the more excited his son got.

How do you tell your son to be careful of the hands-down best technology of the modern age just because the CEO was a snake-in-head alien from a tyrannical race of conquerors from outer space bent on the destruction and enslavement of Earth? Especially when those holograms really were some of _the best_ stuff Walter had ever seen in his entire life? He doubted even the Asgard could come up with holograms this realistic and detailed.

Yeah. Needless to say, avoiding the subject wasn’t working out too well. To make matters worse, the people with Duel Disks on their arms seemed to be clustered in the public parks and recreational areas, which is where Walter and his family had decided to sit and eat their picnic dinner before leaving for the night. The only good news was that the crowds seemed to be thinning now. It must be getting close to six o’clock.

“Hey dad?” Andrew asked curiously.

“Hmm?” he replied around his mouthful of his wife’s magnificent chicken salad sandwich.

“Is that guy alright?”

Walter wasn’t the only one who turned around and follow his son’s pointing hand. A young man of Asian descent with short, bleached brown hair was running from farther down the sidewalk by the lake towards where Walter’s family was seated. He was shouting something in what sounded suspiciously like Japanese with a few mangled English sounding words mixed in.

Wait a second. Walter recognized this particular young man. It was one of the two people in the photograph with Wheeler and the Goa’uld Set. Damn. It seemed he could never escape work even while on vacation.

Or… not?

Another voice shouted from behind Walter and he turned to see a teenager with pale skin and white hair cupping his hands around his mouth. On his left arm was one of KaibaCorp’s Duel Disks. The Asian gave an enthusiastic cry and ran towards the albino as fast as he could, gasping when he got close. But instead of voicing a greeting or waving, the Asian boy grabbed the albino’s arm, ignoring the teenager’s surprised gasp, and smacked his hand on a red button on the side of the Duel Disk.

Walter didn’t speak Japanese. But he knew how to read facial expressions, body language, and tones. The Asian boy was spooked by something and the albino was clearly trying to calm him down. Were they friends? They clearly knew each other.

The Asian boy spoke in rapid Japanese between gasps and pointed frantically back the way he’d come. Oh, this did not look good. Whatever the Asian boy said, the albino’s eyes widened noticeably and he grasped as something underneath his shirt. But then his brown eyes hardened and he hit the red button on his Duel Disk again before grabbing his friend’s hand and running back the way the Asian came.

Or he did, until he stopped and looked over his shoulder. Then he gave a cry and pointed up at something in the sky. Curious, because he was invested in this now, Walter followed the finger to a helicopter rising from the direction of the Mile High Stadium and flying this way _fast._ It was flying awfully low too.

Something wasn’t right.

The helicopter got closer and Walter groaned internally, recognizing the “KC” logo branded boldly on the side of the vehicle. Why was it so low? Walter glanced back at the two boys and saw they were waving at it and jumping up and down. Was it coming for them?

As if in answer to his question, the helicopter slowed to a steady hover directly over the two boys’ positions and a door on the side of the vehicle slid open. Oh. Walter was having such a good day. He did not need this right now.

None other than Set, aka Seto Kaiba, appeared in the opening. One hand was grasping an overhead handle running along the top of the inner helicopter cabin and a foot resting on one of the helicopter’s skids. The Goa’uld shouted something down to the boys in Japanese which was quickly answered by the Asian boy shouting and pointing back down the path.

The sight of the helicopter was gathering a crowd of curious onlookers who were snapping pictures and filming the scene playing out. Walter strained his ears to pick up any stray word, Japanese or English or otherwise as best he could and focused his eyes on the people’s faces hoping to determine if he should step in or not. Walter knew Set was a Goa’uld, but it was highly unlikely anyone else knew.

Still, Walter was an officer in the United States Air Force. He’d been trained to render aid wherever he could. He may not understand the words, but those young boys’ faces screamed something was wrong. He knew when someone was asking for help.

“I need to go make sure everything’s alright,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel.”

Charlotte, bless her heart, nodded. “Call if you need anything,” she ordered him sternly, her eyes filled with worry.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied before standing and hurrying over to do what he hoped he would never have to do again.

He didn’t even have to say a word. All he had to do was look up at the helicopter and Set was already glaring down at him. The Goa’uld’s eyes might not be glowing, but it certainly felt like they were. It wasn’t every day one faced the person who took over your mind, even if it was only temporary and not “real mind control.” It had been an invasion on a very personal level and Walter wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to forgive the Goa’uld for it. Even if said Goa’uld sided with the Tok’ra and genuinely wanted to obliterate the System Lords.

Some things just couldn’t be forgiven easily.

Luckily, or unluckily depending on how he looked at it, Set recognized him. And smirked. The next thing Walter knew, he was following the brown haired Asian boy and the albino teenager up a dangling rope ladder into the helicopter’s cabin. When the ladder was hauled back up and the helicopter’s door slide closed behind him with finality, Walter was face-to-face with Set.

“Walter,” the Goa’uld said, that insidious smirk still on his face.

“Set,” Walter said, deliberately using the Goa’uld’s true name and not the human name he’d adopted.

“Nii-sama?”

Startled by the unexpectedly young voice, Walter looked to his right, then down. A boy who couldn’t have been older than twelve or thirteen was staring at his computer screen in rapt attention. The boy said something in Japanese before looking up, blinking at surprise at Walter’s presence before waving in a friendly fashion.

“Isono,” Set commanded in English. “Head south to Grasmere Lake. Don’t land. We’ll disembark then you get as far away as possible. Is that clear?”

“Sir,” the pilot replied in English, "with all due respect, it's my job to protect you. I'm not leaving you there alone."

"I won't be alone," Set replied, an odd warmth in his voice. "We'll handle this. You're job is to keep my brother safe."

"Nii-sama?!" the boy cried before bursting into a string of angry and worried Japanese.

Set sighed heavily. "Mokuba," he said in a tone that was warm but firm. His next words Walter couldn't understand, but it seemed to have a calming effect on Mokuba.

“Walter,” Set said, returning his hard, blue gaze to the airman.

“That’s Chief Master Sergeant,” Walter corrected in cold, clipped tones.

Blue eyes narrowed dangerously, but Walter had seen and dealt with Goa’uld glares before. After a moment of silence, Set seemed to back off, glancing at the two other boys in the cabin. Was that worry? Couldn’t be.

“Chief Master Sergeant Walter,” Set coldly. “What do you know about bombs?”

What?


End file.
